THREE  YEARS 

AND 

THREE  MONTHS 
A SOLDIER 


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Duke  University  Library 


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Three  Years  and  Three  Months 
A Soldier 


By 


SERGEANT  C.  H.  TODD 


1920 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2015 


https://archive.org/details/threeyearsthreemOOtodd 


/JV  MEMORY 


of  my  comrades,  the  Attica  Guards, 
and  my  regiment,  the  loth  Indiana 
Volunteer  Infantry,  and  my  father 
and  sister  uho  hove  the  harden  of 
anxiety,  sorroiv  and  grief  during  the 
Civil  JVar  of  1S61  to  186d,  uhile  I 
ivas  doing  ivhat  I could  as  a soldier 
in  the  U>iion  army,  three  years  and 
three  months,  to  save  the  Union  and 
Liberty,  this  volume  is  affectionately 
inscribed. 


SERGEANT  C.  H.  TODD 
AT  THE  AGE  OF  21 


SERGEANT  C H.  TODD 
AT  THE  AGE  OF  70 


r 


The  shot  fired  on  Fort  Sumpter  April  12th,  1861, 
which  was  heard  around  the  world,  and  the  call  of  Pres- 
ident Lincoln  for  seventy-five  thousand  men,  touched 
my  young  heart  with  such  force  that  it  set  the  fires  of 
love  for  my  country  aflame,  and  on  the  22nd  I volunteer- 
ed to  go  to  its  defense  against  all  traitors  and  opposers 
of  liberty  and  freedom;  I joined  a company,  then  being 
organized  by  A.  A.  Rice  in  Attica,  Indiana,  which  was 
called  The  Attica  Guards,  and  on  June  14th  we  were 
mustered  into  the  Union  army  for  three  years,  if  not 
sooner  discharged — one  hundred  and  one  strong,  into 
the  15th  Indiana  Volunteer  Infantry.  A civil  war  had 
begun.  The  martial  strife  was  on.  The  cry  arose 
above  the  battle’s  din  and  roar,  “to  arms!  to  arms!  the 
people’s  freedom  and  liberty  and  their  flag  are  assailed 
by  traitors  and  state’s  rights  men  of  the  South’’;  and  on 
July  1st  Company  A,  the  “Attica  Guards’’,  with  its  regi- 
ment, the  15th  Indiana,  went  to  Cincinnati,  Ohio.  On 
the  2nd  the  citizens  gave  us  a fine  dinner  in  the  Pearl 
street  market  house.  On  the  evening  of  the  5th  we 
crossed  the  Ohio  river  into  West  Virginia  near  Clarks- 
burg, going  then  to  Buchanan,  thence  to  Middle  Fork 
Bridge,  where  we  arrived  July  6th  and  saw  the  first 
dead  soldier,  he  having  been  killed  the  day  before.  I 
was  very  much  impressed  with  our  serious  business. 
We  passed  on  to  Rich  Mountain  where  we  arrived  in  a 
cold  rain  on  the  evening  of  the  11th  when  the  battle  was 
just  closing.  The  following  morning  the  regiment 
formed  a part  of  the  pursuing  force  which  captured 
many  prisoners  and  much  war  material.  We  camped 
that  night  in  Tigart  Valley,  then  marched  to  Huttons- 
ville  and  camped  in  Small  Valley  on  the  road  to  Cheat 
Mountain.  We  next  moved  to  Camp  Elkwater,  where 
we  erected  fortifications  and  performed  picket  and  scout 
duty  out  to  and  beyond  Point  Mountain,  some  fifteen 
miles  away.  On  one  of  these  trips  one  of  the  men  in 
the  rear  of  Company  A fell  and  his  gun  was  discharged, 
the  ball  passing  through  the  leg  of  our  First  Sergeant 
Dennis  Bright,  which  resulted  in  a stiff  ankle  that  dis- 
abled him  from  field  duty.  He  was  a noble,  intelligent 
young  man.  This  happened  September  1st. 

7 


On  the  10th  Robert  E.  Lee,  commanding  the  Rebel 
forces  in  western  Virginia,  came  down  on  our  army, 
located  near  Cheat  Mountain  and  Camp  Elkwater,  with 
a force  of  over  five  thousand.  During  this  investment 
Coloned  John  A.  Washington  of  Lee’s  staff  and  three 
other  men  were  making  a reconnoissance  to  ascertain 
our  position.  Our  boys  being  secreted  in  the  thick 
brush  allowed  Washington’s  party  to  get  very  close  be- 
fore they  fired.  All  were  hit,  Washington  falling  from 
his  horse  with  three  balls  through  his  body.  The 
others  turned  to  flee  and  held  one  man  on  the  horse. 
Washington  was  taken  to  our  colonel’s  tent  and  died 
in  less  than  half  an  hour,  only  speaking  once  when  he 
said,  “0,  my  God!”  In  his  pockets  were  found  one 
hundred  dollars  in  U.  S.  gold  and  a splendid  gold  watch. 
Lee  sent  three  thousand  men  to  the  left  and  rear  of 
our  camps.  During  the  latter  part  of  the  night  two 
companies  of  our  boys  started  with  dispatches  to  our 
force  on  Cheat  Mountain.  The  Confederates  had  drop- 
ped down  and  gone  to  sleep  right  in  the  path  on  which 
our  boys  were  going,  and  had  placed  no  pickets,  so  our 
boys  got  into  their  very  midst  before  they  were  dis- 
covered. It  was  so  sudden  that  it  caused  a panic  in 
the  enemy’s  ranks  and  the  latter  fled  in  wild  haste, 
leaving  arms,  blankets,  haversacks,  canteens  and  pro- 
visions. The  panic  became  contageous,  and  Lee  broke 
camp  and  retreated  back  over  the  mountain  to  Green- 
brier river. 

On  October  1st  our  regiment  marched  to  Cheat  Moun- 
tain in  rain,  sleet  and  snow,  and  so  severe  was  the  storm 
that  eighteen  head  of  mules  and  horses  and  one  man 
perished  during  the  night  and  a large  number  of  men 
were  prostrated  by  sickness..  It  v/as  ten  o’clock  before 
we  could  get  a fire  started  because  the  rain,  sleet  and 
snow  came  down  with  such  great  force  under  a wind 
that  went  at  a sixty  mile  gate.  Our  regiment  had  no 
tents  or  shelter  of  any  kind,  only  a blanket  to  a man,  to 
protect  us  from  the  blast  of  the  storm  and  cold.  It  was 
the  worst  storm  I was  in  during  the  three  years  and 
three  months  of  war. 

We  were  on  top  of  the  mountain  October  3rd,  1861. 


At  two  o’clock  A.  M.  we  left  our  camp  for  a reconnois- 
sance  in  front  of  Camp  Barto,  the  rebel  camp  on  Green- 
brier river,  ten  miles  from  the  summit  of  Cheat  Moun- 
tain, where  some  fifteen  thousand  rebel  troops  were  in 
camp  under  General  Jackson  and  others.  General  Rey- 
nolds was  commanding  our  forces.  A brisk  action 
ensued  between  our  Union  force  of  five  thousand  men 
and  the  Rebels.  After  crossing  the  river  we  found 
both  sides  of  the  road  strewn  with  blankets,  canteens, 
haversacks  and  hats  of  both  armies.  Our  boys,  strip- 
ped for  the  running  fight,  were  sending  the  Rebels  at 
double  quick  to  their  Camp  Barto.  Turning  a point  in 
the  road,  to  the  left  in  a beautiful  valley,  full  one  mile 
wide,  we  began  to  step  over  the  dead  and  wounded  of 
both  sides.  Our  regiment  and  the  25th  Ohio  were  in 
reserve  line.  Our  batteries,  Daum’s,  Loomis’s  and 
Howe’s,  passed  on  and  advanced  to  within  five  hundred 
yards  of  the  Rebel  camp  and  forts.  The  infantry  took 
position  to  protect  our  guns;  then  for  over  four  hours 
the  duel  between  fifteen  cannon  on  our  side  and  eighteen 
on  the  Confederate  side  shook  the  earth,  and  many  men 
and  horses  were  killed  and  wounded.  We  got  up  so 
close  to  the  Rebels  that  we  heard,  when  there  was  the 
least  stop  of  our  guns,  heart-rending  cries  of  their 
wounded  in  the  trenches,  which  was  proof  they  were 
getting  a plenty.  Our  loss  was  thirty  killed  and  one 
hundred  seventy-five  wounded,  and  it  doubtless  would 
have  been  greater,  but  for  some  reason  the  enemy  did 
not  cut  their  fuse  properly.  The  Rebel’s  loss  was  over 
one  hundred  and  fifty  killed  and  nearly  four  hundred 
wounded.  One  man  was  cut  in  two  wdth  a cannon 
ball  and  many  were  knocked  down  by  shell  explosion. 
The  enemy  had  five  cannon  disabled;  we  had  one.  Al- 
together I was  seriously  impressed  with  the  awfulness 
of  war,  and  was  nearer  hell  than  I liked  to  be.  What 
surprised  me  was  that  so  few  were  killed  when  tons  of 
iron  and  lead  were  fired  in  among  so  many  men.  To 
me  it  was  the  most  wonderful  battle  I was  in  during  the 
war.  It  was  grand  beyond  description.  As  General 
Reynolds  had  accomplished  all  he  went  for,  we  quietly 
returned  to  our  camps  on  Cheat  Mountain. 

9 


On  October  10th  we  went  back  to  our  old  camp  at 
Elkwater,  and  then  to  Huttonsville.  November  19th 
we  started  to  Louisville,  Kentucky,  camping  at  Phillippi 
the  24th  and  at  Parkersburg  the  28th,  going  by  steam- 
boat to  Louisville,  Kentucky,  where  we  pitched  camp 
November  30th,  1861.  On  December  10th  we  marched 
fifty  miles  south  from  Louisville  and  went  into  camp 
December  14th  at  Camp  Wickliff,  Ky.,  where  we  re- 
mained until  February  10th,  1862,  when  we  took  up  our 
march  south,  expecting  to  re-enforce  General  Grant  at 
Forts  Henry  and  Donaldson,  but  Grant  whipped  the 
Rebels,  and  we  turned  east  to  Nashville,  Tenn.,  where 
we  arrived  March  5th  and  went  into  camp.  We  were 
later  ordered  to  Grant’s  support  near  Pittsburg  Land- 
ing, Tenn.,  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles  south  and 
west,  where  we  arrived  at  6 P.  M.  April  6th.  We 
crossed  the  river  on  the  morning  of  the  7th  and  went 
into  battle  at  eight  A.  M.,  passing  over  the  dead  of  the 
day  before  and  the  wounded  of  the  early  morning,  on 
out  nearly  two  miles,  where  we  became  actively  engag- 
ed for  the  remainder  of  the  day.  At  night  in  a hard 
rain  we  lay  down  among  the  dead  to  sleep,  for  we  had 
not  slept  for  three  nights.  On  the  8th  we  followed  the 
fieeing  enemy  for  more  than  10  miles,  fighting  their 
cavalry  all  day.  We  did  not  return  to  camp  until  after 
dark,  and  lay  down  among  the  dead  of  both  armies. 
The  next  two  days  we  buried  the  dead.  The  scene 
beggars  description.  No  pen  can  describe  its  awful- 
ness— men  with  their  heads  off,  bodies  mutilated  and 
disemboweled,  and  in  places  men  lying  three-deep  as 
they  had  fallen  after  being  shot  down.  That  wooded 
country  for  over  ten  miles  in  length  and  four  miles  in 
width  had  been  fought  over,  back  and  forth  many  times. 
The  dead  were  scattered  all  over  that  large  space  of 
land.  Many  bodies  were  so  swollen  that  they  looked 
twice  their  natural  size,  and  many  of  them  burst  while 
we  handled  them  in  the  burial.  I had  a detail  of  eight 
men — four  with  stretchers  to  gather  the  bodies  and  four 
to  dig  graves  and  cover  the  bodies.  The  bodies  were 
placed  side  by  side  in  trenches,  from  ten  to  fifty  in  a 
place.  Thus  all  day  hundreds  of  men  were  engaged  in 

10 


that  dreadful  duty  amidst  that  awful  sight.  In  two 
different  places  every  horse  lay  dead  in  its  harness, 
hitched  to  cannon  or  caisson,  and  I could  have  walked 
on  dead  men’s  bodies,  over  thirty  yards  in  extent  both 
to  the  east  and  to  the  west,  without  stepping  on  the 
ground.  The  men  of  both  armies  lay  two  and  three 
deep  in  places  and  the  ground  was  littered  with  parts 
of  bodies.  The  scene  was  so  terrible  I turned  sick  al- 
most to  fainting.  When  we  crossed  the  river  near  one 
of  our  field  hospitals  we  noticed  two  piles  of  hands, 
arms  and  legs  that  would  have  more  than  filled  a large 
wagon  bed.  On  the  other  side  of  the  river  there  were 
at  least  a thousand  men,  frightened  and  bloody,  with 
heads  and  limbs  tied  up,  begging  to  cross  back  over  the 
river.  I saw  five  hundred  dead  horses  lying  side  by 
side,  ready  to  be  burned,  over  fifteen  hundred  having 
been  killed  in  the  battle.  There  were  over  40,000 
Union  men  and  60,000  Confederates  engaged  on  Sunday, 
the  6th  of  April,  and  70,000  Union  men  and  55,000 
Rebels  on  Apiil  7th,  Thirty  thousand  Americans  were 
killed  and  wounded  in  the  three  days’  fighting! 

The  battle  of  Shilo  or  Pittsburg  Landing  was  one  of 
the  most  fiercely  contested  battles  of  the  Civil  war.  On 
Sunday  our  boys  were  surprised  and  had  to  fight  a 
much  larger  force,  and  were  driven  over  two  miles  back 
to  the  river.  Early  in  the  morning  on  Monday  the  7th, 
Buell’s  army  having  arrived  during  the  night.  Grant 
attacked  the  enemy,  and  a terrible  army,  strong  and 
mighty,  was  in  action.  The  sight  was  beyond  my 
powers  of  description — all  parts  of  that  great  host,  the 
two  armies,  serged,  charged  and  rushed  at  one  another, 
with  fixed  bayonets,  with  horses  and  cannon,  in  regi- 
ments, divisions  and  corps,  moving  with  steady  step, 
while  loading  and  firing.  Then,  with  deafening  yells, 
both  sides  would  drive  in  great  lines  a mile  long,  until 
re-enforcements  would  come  and  stop  for  a little  while 
the  mighty  power.  Then  the  line  of  Union  boys  would 
move  forward  and  drive  all  before  it  for  over  5 miles  in 
length  along  the  entire  line.  It  was  a sight  grand, 
beautiful  and  terrible,  once  seen  never  forgotten,  mak- 
ing the  heart  sick  to  see  the  awful  suffering  of  human 

II 


beings.  Our  army  was  told  not  to  write  home  and  tell 
of  the  awful  scenes,  as  that  would  discourage  enlist- 
ments. In  no  history  have  I ever  seen  a description  of 
that  battle  that  did  it  iustice. 

On  April  the  12th  the  advance  on  Corinth,  Mississippi, 
was  commenced  under  General  Halleck.  We  took  Cor- 
inth on  May  28th,  after  which  we  were  ordered  to 
Huntsville,  Alabama,  being  in  camp  there  until  July 
10th.  We  then  went  north  by  way  of  Murfreesboro, 
Tenn.,  and  Nashville  to  Louisville,  Ky.,  reaching  there 
September  20th.  On  October  3rd,  1862,  we  started 
after  Bragg’s  forces  and  on  the  8th  engaged  them  in 
battle  at  Perrysville,  Ky.,  where  we  whipped  them  and 
drove  them  south  to  Murfreesboro,  Tenn.  Our  army 
next  went  into  camp  at  Nashville,  thirty  miles  west  of 
the  enemy,  where  we  remained  until  December  26,  1862. 

The  battle  of  Perrysville,  Ky.,  fought  October  8th, 
1862,  was  a severe  contest  between  a part  of  Bragg’s 
army  and  a part  of  the  Union  army  under  D.  C.  Buell. 
Our  corps,  Crittenden’s,  did  not  get  in  line  of  battle 
until  4 P.  M.  to  take  part  in  the  struggle.  Our  forces 
were  badly  cut  up  and  hard  pressed  by  the  enemy,  be- 
ing forced  to  retreat  more  than  half  a mile.  We  turn- 
ed the  tide  of  battle  instantly  as  soon  as  we  got  to  firing, 
and  drove  the  enemy  until  dark  closed  the  struggle.  We 
were  in  fine  condition  to  renew  the  battle  in  the  morn- 
ing, but  during  the  night  the  Confederates  retreated, 
and  we  went  in  pursuit  of  them  immediately.  The 
Union  loss  in  killed  in  this  battle  was  nearly  five  hun- 
dred. Among  them  were  Generals  Jackson  and  Tyrell, 
There  were  fourteen  hundred  and  sixty-five  wounded 
and  one  hundred  and  seventy  missing.  The  Confeder- 
ate loss  in  killed,  wounded  and  prisoners  was  about  the 
same.  During  the  battle,  near  dark,  there  occurred  an 
unusual  incident.  General  Polk  (Confederate)  be- 
lieved that  some  Confederate  troops  were  firing  into 
each  other,  so  rode  down  to  the  regiment  that  was  firing 
upon  his  troops  and  asked  the  Colonel  what  he  meant 
by  shooting  into  friends  and  asked  him  also  to  cease 
firing.  The  Colonel  replied,  “I  am  sure  they  are  the 
enemy.  Who  are  you?”  “Enemy?”  said  General  Polk, 

12 


“Why,  I have  just  left  them  myself.  Cease  firing.  Who 
are  you,  sir?”  “I  am  colonel  of  the  27th  Indiana.” 
“Cease  firing.  I will  show  you  who  I am,  sir.”  Thus 
made  aware  that  he  was  with  a Federal  regiment  and 
that  his  only  escape  was  to  brazen  it  out.  General  Polk 
shook  his  fist  at  the  colonel  and  told  him  to  cease  firing. 
He  then  cantered  down  the  line,  shouting.  “Cease  fir- 
ing”. As  soon  as  he  reached  the  cover  of  his  own  Con- 
federate troops  he  ordered  them  to  open  fire  and  told 
them  how  close  he  came  to  being  killed  or  taken 
prisoner.  For  weeks  after  that  it  was  an  every  day 
joke  among  our  troops — “Cease  firing,  cease  firing.  Gen- 
eral Polk  is  coming!  Cease  firing!” 

As  we  had  learned  that  Bragg  had  said  this  campaign 
was  to  be  won  by  marching — not  by  fighting — our  army 
did  not  crowd  the  Confederates,  and  when  the  Rebels 
commenced  the  fight  our  forces  were  scattered  and  it 
took  several  hours  to  concentrate  During  the  first  of 
the  battle  we  were  out-numbered  three  to  one.  and  the 
Rebs  came  near  whipping  our  boys,  but  as  soon  as  our 
corps  got  busy  at  them  they  began  to  pray  for  dark  to 
hide  them.  The  fight  took  place  on  a piece  of  open 
country,  oval  in  shape,  in  the  center  of  which  between 
the  two  armies  was  a depression  some  two  hundred 
yards  wide,  which  gave  a fine  view  of  both  of  the  con- 
testing forces,  each  side  of  which  now  numbered  twenty 
thousand.  On  the  10th  of  October,  1862,  Bragg’s  army 
in  Kentucky  numbered  all-told  sixty  thousand  men  and 
the  army  of  Ohio  about  the  same. 

December  25th  we  broke  camp  and  started  to  whip 
Bragg  or  get  whipped.  The  army  moved  out  on  the 
Nashville  and  Murfeesboro  Pike  toward  Laverne. 
Skirmishing  commenced  with  the  enemy  as  soon  as  the 
outposts  were  passed  and  kept  up  all  day.  We  went 
into  camp  after  dark  near  Laverne.  The  next  three 
days  we  advanced  and  on  December  30th  we  formed  in 
line  of  battle  and  drove  the  enemy  to  within  one  mile 
of  Murfreesboro  to  Stone  River.  My  company  (Co.  A) 
was  on  the  skirmish  line  and  just  at  sundown  I receiv- 
ed a wound  in  my  right  middle  finger,  which  broke  the 
bone,  splitting  it  and  making  a very  painful  wound.  We 

13 


went  into  camp  where  we  were,  on  the  front  line.  The 
next  morning  with  my  hand  in  a sling,  I went  with  the 
company  to  do  what  I could,  carrying  my  gun  in  my  left 
hand,  for  as  soon  as  I let  my  right  hand  hang  down,  to 
say  nothing  of  holding  my  gun  with  it,  I would  turn  very 
sick.  On  the  morning  of  December  31st,  at  four 
o’clock,  our  whole  army  corps  was  in  line  of  battle  and 
there  we  stood  until  6 A.  M.,  when  all  at  once  terrific 
firing  commenced  on  our  extreme  right,  which  soon 
reached  the  roar  of  battle  of  small  arms  and  over  fifty 
cannon.  We  looked  to  the  right  and  an  appalling  sight 
met  our  gaze.  One-half  mile  away  was  a dense  cedar 
thicket,  out  of  which  our  men,  horses,  ambulances, 
wagons  and  cannon  were  pouring  in  retreat,  frightened 
and  surprised,  and  kept  up  the  retreat  for  two  miles, 
and  turned  like  a gate  to  the  west,  which  told  us  that 
our  time  would  soon  come.  At  that  time  Brecken- 
lidge’s  division  swung  around  our  left  and  rear,  out  of 
the  thick  woods,  and  we  were  moved  forward  to  meet 
them.  We  hastily  crossed  an  open  cotton  field  to  the 
bank  of  Stone  river  and  were  ordered  to  lie  down  under 
the  fire  of  two  batteries — twelve  guns  of  the  enemy, 
but  soon  had  to  face  to  the  side  and  rear  to  meet  the 
enemy.  A large  number  in  that  short  hour  had  been 
killed  and  wounded  in  our  brigade,  one  of  whom  was 
Will  Hegler.  The  Rebels  continued  to  close  in  on  us 
from  the  front  and  rear,  determined  to  turn  our  left,  so 
we  charged  them  with  bayonet  and  a yell  and  double 
quick,  bringing  back  more  prisoners  than  we  numbered. 
It  was  then  11  A.  M.  and  general  firing,  by  the  division 
and  the  army,  was  universal  until  4 P.  M.  Then  soon 
after  that  all  became  quiet,  except  some  picket  firing, 
and  so  ended  the  first  day’s  general  engagement. 

January  1st  both  armies  reorganized  and  growled  at 
each  other.  Only  at  times  there  would  be  a very  spirit- 
ed fight  in  different  places  along  the  line,  both  by  ar- 
tillery and  musketry,  both  sides  holding  their  own.  On 
January  2nd  both  sides  began  to  maneuver  and  had 
several  severe  fights.  The  Rebels  shifted  a large  part 
of  their  forces  from  their  left  to  their  right,  around 
behind  a thick  woods,  and  about  3:30  P.  M.  attacked  our 

14 


left  with  over  thirty  thousand  men.  Our  outposts  and 
pickets  came  rushing  in  to  the  main  line.  Along  the 
west  bank  of  Stone  river  and  in  line  of  battle  over  two 
miles  long,  in  three  lines  in  close  columns,  more  than 
twenty-five  thousand  men  were  coming  in  a turkey  trot, 
but  we  were  ready  to  receive  them.  Our  chief  of  ar- 
tillery, General  Mendenhall,  gave  the  signal  and  seven- 
ty cannon,  forming  a line  a half  mile  long  with  shot, 
shell,  grape  and  canister,  belched  forth  a storm  of  iron 
and  lead,  and  fifteen  thousand  rides  in  the  hands  of  the 
best  soldiers  in  the  world  helped  to  make  another  page 
in  history,  brilliant  with  Union  men’s  valor  and  cour- 
age. I was  lying  on  the  ground  with  our  company  and 
regiment,  supporting  and  defending  our  artillery,  which 
fired  so  rapidly  that  they  sent  forth  a continuous  sheer 
of  dame  the  whole  length  of  the  line.  The  earth  seem- 
ed to  expand  and  contract  and  shake  as  a leaf;  we  could 
feel  ourselves  rise  and  fall  with  the  awful  power  of 
concussion  which  continued  over  forty  minutes.  The 
timber  in  our  front,  where  the  Confederates  were,  was 
literally  mowed  down,  hundreds  of  the  enemy  being 
killed  and  wounded  by  falling  limbs  and  parts  of  trees. 
The  survivors  said  that  in  that  short  time  they  lost  in 
killed  and  wounded  twenty-dve  hundred  men  besides 
over  one  thousand  prisoners.  It  was  the  grandest  and 
most  magnificent  sight  I saw  during  my  three  years’  of 
service;  thus  ended  the  great  battle  of  Stone  River  or 
Murfreesboro.  On  January  3rd,  Saturday,  the  enemy 
left  and  we  took  possession  of  the  town  with  its  four 
thousand  wounded  Confederate  soldiers,  and  camped 
there  until  July;  then  we  took  up  our  march  for  Tulla- 
homa  where  the  Rebel  army  was.  No  set  of  men  could 
have  done  more  than  the  15th  Indiana  did  in  holding  the 
key  of  the  battlefield  of  Stone  River,  that  hazardous 
point  between  the  river  and  the  railroad.  Never  did 
men  make  more  stubborn  resistance  against  an  attack- 
ing charge  than  did  the  15th  Indiana  Volunteers.  As 
evidence  of  their  heroism  and  power,  look  at  their  dead 
and  wounded  who  lay  two  hundred  yards  in  advance  of 
the  line  of  battle  where  the  attacks  of  Bragg’s  best  men 
were  made  and  driven  back  in  three  distinct  bayonet 

15 


charges.  The  enemy,  though  numbering  three  to  our 
one,  was  hurled  back  and  at  the  same  time  we  brought 
back  more  prisoners  than  we  numbered;  only  one  regi- 
ment, unsupported  part  of  the  time,  to  charge  a brigade 
and  then  a division — an  unparalleled  feat  in  the  face  of 
an  army!  We  were  ordered  to  hold  the  key  to  the 
battlefield  of  Stone  River  and  we  did  it  and  saved  our 
army  from  utter  retreat  and  rout,  though  the  toll  of 
blood  and  life  was  fearful.  Fifty-two  of  our  best  lay 
dead  and  two  hundred  wounded;  a loss  of  sixty  per  cent. 
Five  of  my  company  (Co.  A)  were  among  those  who 
gave  their  all  for  their  country  and  liberty.  The  night 
of  December  31st  I went  to  the  field  hospital  to  see  and 
do  what  I could  for  our  wounded  boys,  and  the  horrors 
of  the  scenes  of  that  night’s  work  are  before  me  now; 
cries,  groans,  screams,  agony,  begging  for  some  one  to 
kill  them  and  put  them  out  of  their  awful  misery,  call- 
ing for  loved  ones  to  see  them  once  more  before  they 
died;  doctors  cutting  off  legs,  arms  and  hands;  blood 
flowing;  men  dying.  I could  never  be  induced  to  go 
to  another  field  hospital.  The  hospital  covered  twelve 
acres  of  ground.  Our  regiment  with  the  army  left 
Murfreesboro  June  24th,  1863,  on  what  was  called  the 
Tullahoma  campaign.  Our  army  under  Rosencrans 
numbered  some  fifty  thousand  men.  We  went  by  way 
of  Manchester  and  Guy’s  Gap,  which  we  were  to  hold 
while  the  main  part  of  the  army  attacked  Bragg  in 
front;  but  twelve  hours  before  we  got  there  Bragg’s 
army  passed  through  the  gap  and  we  lost  our  chance 
to  give  him  battle.  The  next  morning  we  heard  of  the 
fall  of  Vicksburg  and  our  great  victory  in  the  east  over 
Lee’s  army,  and,  say,  we  did  feel  good  and  did  some  big- 
cheering.  We  were  happy.  The  army  then  took  up 
its  march  to  take  Chattanooga,  which  it  did  September 
8th.  On  the  9th  our  regiment  and  brigade  crossed  the 
liver  and  took  possession  of  the  city.  The  army  of  the 
Cumberland  followed,  passed  us,  and  camped  out  south, 
near  Crawfish  Springs  and  along  Chickamauga  Creek. 
As  our  brigade  took  and  entered  Chattanooga  first,  we 
were  ordered  to  hold  it  and  fortify  it,  so  that  was  the 
reason  we  were  not  in  the  battle  of  Chickamauga  on 

16 


September  19th  and  20th.  Our  army  was  defeated, 
but  came  back  into  Chattanooga  on  the  21st  and  22nd, 
where  we  were  all  surrounded  by  the  enemy  until  Nov- 
ember 25th,  when  we  licked  them  and  drove  them  away. 
General  Gordon  Granger,  following  Sherman’s  army, 
went  to  the  aid  of  our  forces  in  Knoxville.  The  battle 
of  Chattanooga  was  fought  on  the  23rd,  24th  and  25th 
of  November,  1863.  Its  scenery  was  brilliant  beyond 
description — off  to  our  right  was  Lookout  Mountain 
rising  2500  feet  above  the  Tennessee  River  which 
sweeps  by  its  base;  from  its  summit  one  can  see  into 
seven  different  states — a scene  so  grand  one  is  forced 
to  exclaim,  “Surely  this  is  the  handiwork  of  our  Heaven- 
ly Father!”  Across  the  river  was  Moccasin  Point 
where  were  our  big  cannon;  and  north  was  Waldron’s 
Ridge  whose  rocky  impassable  sides  rise  one  thousand 
feet  for  miles  eastward  where  the  river  closed  the  only 
gap  to  Missionary  Ridge.  The  north  end  of  the  ridge — 
some  five  hundred  feet  high — was  right  up  to  the  river 
and  then  extended  about  three  miles  to  Ross’s  Gap, 
nearly  due  south  of  Chattanooga,  then  west  and  north 
around  to  Lookout  Mountain,  four  miles  distant,  mak- 
ing the  Confederate  line  more  than  seventeen  miles  long 
around  the  position  of  the  Union  army,  which  was  seven 
miles  east  and  west  by  nearly  six  miles  north  and  south. 
The  Rebels  had  tw’O  well  entienched  lines  of  earth  works 
reaching  around  the  entire  ridge.  On  the  top  of  that 
semi-circle  was  General  Bragg’s  headquarters,  about 
midway  from  the  river  to  Rossville  Gap.  While  in  the 
valley  below,  shut  up  in  Chattanooga,  was  the  army  of 
the  Cumberland  in  the  center.  General  Sherman’s  army 
of  the  Tennessee  on  our  left  and  General  Hooker’s 
eleventh  and  twelvth  corps  of  the  Potomac  on  the  south 
and  west.  We  were  hemmed  in,  with  rations  cut  off. 
For  over  two  months  we  were  compelled  to  live  on  one- 
fourth  rations.  Men  stole  corn  from  the  mules  and 
horses;  bare  starvation  faced  us.  General  Grant  says 
in  his  official  report,  “More  than  ten  thousand  horses 
and  mules  had  starved  to  death  in  six  weeks’  time,  be- 
fore the  battle.”  Our  quartermaster  killed  our  cattle 
to  keep  them  from  dying.  We  had  that  kind  of  meat, 

17 


and  that  even  appeared  to  shrink  up  in  cooking.  This 
is  not  an  overdrawn  picture  of  conditions  before  the 
battle  of  Chattanooga  was  fought.  From  Fort  Wood, 
where  we  were  camped,  we  could  see  all  over  that  great 
space  of  country— the  tents  and  war  implements,  with 
flags  of  both  armies,  which  numbered  over  one  hun- 
dred thousand  each,  ready  to  grapple  in  a death 
struggle  for  victory.  The  scene  was  grand  and  terrible 
beyond  the  ability  of  man  to  describe. 

At  1 P.  M.  on  November  23rd  the  guns  in  Fort  Wood 
signaled  the  opening  of  the  battle  of  Chattanooga. 
Sherman  on  our  left  drove  and  was  driven,  and  that 
great  army  of  the  Tennessee  did  grand  work,  and  with 
appalling  loss,  until  night  stopped  the  awful  carnage. 
The  morning  of  November  24th  was  cloudy  and  remain- 
ed so  all  day.  Soon  we  heard  Sherman’s  guns;  he  was 
renewing  his  attack  on  our  left,  and  after  a short  time 
Hooker,  on  our  right,  began  on  Lookout  Mountain  to 
slowly  drive  the  enemy,  and  about  three  P.  M.  captured 
the  entire  mountain,  and  until  after  dark  drove  the 
enemy  from  its  top.  Sherman  fought  and  struggled 
all  day  with  heavy  loss,  but  could  not  turn  the  enemy’s 
right  wing,  and  so  ended  the  second  day’s  battle  of 
Chattanooga.  Hooker  had  won  a great  victory.  Our 
army  of  the  Cum.berland,  in  two  days,  had  driven  the 
enemy  over  two  miles  to  the  foot  of  the  ridge  and  had 
thrown  up  breastworks  for  protection ; on  the  24th  we 
were  exposed  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy’s  artillery  but 
held  our  position.  While  Hooker  fought  he  was,  much 
of  the  time,  above  and  in  the  midst  of  the  clouds;  the 
flash  of  his  guns  could  be  plainly  seen  as  if  there  were 
thousands  of  lightning  bugs  in  the  mountains,  and 
the  darker  it  grew  the  plainer  it  could  be  seen,  making 
a very  rare  and  beautiful  sight.  About  four  o’clock 
the  news  was  brought  to  us,  “Hooker  has  taken  Lookout 
Mountain.’’  Then  we  rejoiced  and  hollowed  until  we 
were  hoarse.  All  quieted  down  by  seven  o’clock,  ex- 
cept the  wounded. 

- The  morning  of  November  25th  came  out  beautiful 
and  bright.  The  Rebels  commenced  firing  on  us  with 
their  cannon  about  seven  A.  M.  All  was  ready  for 

18 


whatever  was  to  be  done.  Our  army  of  the  Cumber- 
land, being  in  the  center  between  Sherman  and  Hooker, 
our  regiment,  brigade  and  division  were  in  front  of 
Bragg’s  headquarters,  and  as  it  so  happened,  our  regi- 
ment went  up  the  ridge  right  in  front  of  a Rebel  battery, 
two  cannon  to  our  right,  two  to  our  center  and  two  to 
our  left,  and  two  lines  of  infantry.  Hooker  had  now  at 
ten  A.  M.  reached  Ross’s  Gap  and  was  pressing  the 
Rebels,  but  soon  he  and  Sherman  met  such  stubborn 
resistance  that  there  was  a stop  until  near  three  o’clock, 
when  the  aimy  of  the  Cumberland  was  ordered  forward 
to  diive  out  and  take  the  Rebel  rifle  pits  at  the  foot  of 
the  ridge,  six  hundred  yards  from  the  top,  which  it  did 
in  its  usual  style.  We  soon  found  that  because  of  our 
position  being  so  near  to  the  Rebel’s  artillery  we  could 
not  stay  there,  do  nothing  and  be  murdered.  We  said, 
“We  will  go  forward.”  The  number  being  killed  in  the 
division  showed  that  it  was  simply  murder  to  stay  there 
where  we  could  not  return  the  fire  and  accomplish  any- 
thing. The  men  began  to  say,  “Does  Grant  want  to 
have  us  murdered?”  Soon  v/e  all  began  to  hollow, 
“Forward!  Forward!”  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes 
to  tell  it  we  started  amid  shot,  shell,  grape,  canister  and 
musket  balls,  and  above  the  awful  din  and  noise  could 
be  heard,  “Forward!”  until  the  army  of  the  Cumber- 
land under  that  matchless  leader,  G.  H.  Thomas,  and 
those  fighters,  Gordon,  Granger,  Sheridan  and  others, 
bioke  through  the  center  of  Bragg’s  army  and  drove 
them  pell  mell  in  retreat — a glorious  page  in  history 
for  the  army  of  the  Cumberland.  Over  thirty  cannon 
were  part  of  our  spoils  and  trophies.  The  battle  of 
Missionary  Ridge  will  ever  be  remembered  as  one  of  the 
grandest  battles  of  history,  for  numbers,  scenery  and 
wonderful  victory,  and  I am  very  proud  of  my  company 
and  the  15th  Indiana  regiment.  Our  flag  was  the  first 
planted  on  the  ridge  after  it  had  been  shot  down  six 
times.  Its  bearer,  George  L.  Banks,  fell  first;  then 
others  raised  it  only  to  be  shot  down,  until  it  fell  six 
times.  Comrade  Banks,  staggering  from  loss  of  blood, 
raised  it  last  and,  being  too  weak  to  stand,  T.  N.  Gra- 
ham took  it  and  placed  it  on  top  of  the  breastworks.  In 

19 


GEORGE  L.  BANKS 

AT  THE  AGE  OF  70 


20 


Old  Glory 


a few  moments  more  than  a hundred  flags,  extending 
over  a mile  in  distance,  were  proudly  proclaiming  vic- 
tory and  thanks  to  God.  I could  never  describe  my  feel- 
ings at  that  time,  but  I did  say  many  times,  “Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest,”  for  giving  us  the  victory,  for  He 
w'as  more  than  all  that  were  against  us.  But,  oh,  my 
heart  sank  within  me  when  I saw  so  few  left  of  our 
grand  regiment.  Over  seventy  per  cent  had  been  killed 
and  wounded — 52  killed  and  147  wounded.  Out  of  335 
men  only  140  assembled  after  the  battle.  Our  regiment 
captured  56  Rebels  besides  those  taken  by  the  other 
part  of  the  brigade. 

On  the  26th  we  drove  the  Confederate  army  to  Chick- 
amauga  Creek,  ten  miles,  and  in  the  evening  returned 
to  our  camp  in  Chattanooga.  On  November  28th  we 
left  for  Knoxville,  Tenn.,  135  miles  distant,  to  aid  our 
army  there  which  was  surrounded  by  the  enemy.  We 
arrived  December  5th,  one  day  after  the  battle.  At 
night  the  Rebels  retreated,  as  Sherman  had  formed  his 
men  ready  to  attack  in  the  morning.  Near  Fort  San- 
ders, where  the  hardest  fighting  had  been,  pools  of  dry 
blood  and  pieces  of  flesh  could  be  seen  all  around  on  the 
ground  as  proof  of  the  slaughter  of  men.  We  followed 
the  enemy  south  from  Knoxville  three  miles  and  went 
into  camp  in  the  woods  without  tents,  where  we  re- 
mained a few  days ; then  we  went  up  to  Strawberry 
Plains,  thirty  miles  east  of  Knoxville,  and  to  the  French 
Broad  river  along  the  Allegheny  Mountains,  doing  scout 
and  reconnoissance  duty  until  February  1st,  1864.  We 
then  returned  to  Knoxville,  going  from  there  thirty 
miles  west  to  Loudon,  Tenn.,  where  we  camped  until 
February  23rd. 

“No  man  who  climbs  the  ascent  of  Missionary  Ridge 
by  any  of  the  roads  that  wind  along  its  front  can  be- 
lieve that  18,000  men  were  moved  upon  its  barren  and 
crumbling  face,  unless  it  was  his  fortune  to  witness 
the  deed.  It  seems  as  awful  as  a visible  interposition 
of  God.  Neither  Generals  Grant  nor  Thomas  intended 
it.  Their  orders  were  to  carry  the  rifle  pits  along  the 
base  of  the  Ridge  and  cut  off  their  occupants,  but  when 
this  was  accomplished  the  unaccountable  spirit  of  the 

21 


trocps  bore  them  bodily  up  the  impracticable  steeps,, 
over  the  bristling  rifle-pits  on  the  crest,  and  sixty  can- 
non enfilading  every  gulley.  The  orders  to  storm  ap- 
pear to  have  been  given  simultaneously  by  Generals 
Sheridan  and  Wood,  because  the  men  were  not  to  be 
held  back,  hopeless  as  the  attempt  appeared  to  military 
prudence.  Besides  the  Generals  caught  the  inspiration 
of  the  men  and  were  ready  themselves  to  undertake 
impossibilities.” 

General  Hooker’s  fight  up  the  slopes  of  Lookout 
Mountain  on  November  24th  was  fought  above  the 
clouds,  from  which  his  musketry  was  heard  and  the 
flash  seen,  and  the  larger  flash  from  his  cannon  was,  like 
lightning.  “There  is  on  record  one  parallel  to  this 
in  the  campaign  of  Napoleon — the  battle  of  the  Colde 
Tarvis  which  was  fought  above  the  clouds  in  the  Cranic 
Alps  on  March  22,  1797,  the  artillery  thundering  in  the 
laboratory  of  storms,  while  the  cavalry  performed  their 
evolutions  on  the  ice,  and  the  infantry  attacking  in  snow 
three  feet  deep.” 


FIELD  ORDERS 

Headquarters  Department  of  the  Cumberland, 
November  25.  186.3 
Chattanooga,  Tenn. 

Major  General  Granger, 

Missioh  Ridge. 

Please  accept  my  congratulations  on  the  splendid  suc- 
cess of  your  troops,  and  convey  to  them  my  cordial 
thanks  for  the  brilliant  style  in  which  they  carried  the 
enemy’s  work.  Their  conduct  cannot  be  too  highly  ap- 
preciated. 

George  H.  Thomas, 

Major  General  Commanding. 

Headquarters  Fourth  Army  Corps, 

Bragg’s  Headquarters,  Mission  Ridge,  Tenn.,  Nov, 
26,  1863. 

Soldiers  of  the  Fourth  Army  Corps: — 

In  announcing  this  distinguished  recognition  of  your 

22 


signal  gallantry  in  carrying  through  a terrible  storm  of 
iron,  a mountain  crowned  with  batteries  and  encircled 
with  rifle  pits,  I am  constrained  to  express  my  own  ad- 
miration of  your  noble  conduct,  and  I am  proud  to  tell 
you  that  the  veteran  generals  from  other  fields,  who 
witnessed  your  heroic  bearing,  place  your  assault  and 
triumph  among  the  most  brilliant  achievements  of  the 
war.  Thirty  cannon,  more  than  three  thousand  prison- 
ers and  several  battle  flags  taken  from  the  enemy  are 
among  your  trophies.  Thanks,  soldiers!  you  made  that 
day  a glorious  page  of  history. 

G.  Granger,  Major  General  Commanding. 

Headquarters  Second  Division  4th  Army  Corps, 

Chattanooga,  Tennessee,  Nov.  27th,  1863. 
General  Order 
No.  20. 

The  General  Commanding  desires  to  express  to  the 
olficers  and  men  of  his  Division  his  sincere  thanks  for 
their  gallant  conduct  in  the  battle  of  the  25th. 

The  storming  of  Mission  Ridge  and  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  done  has  not  a parallel  in  this  war,  nor  in 
history.  That  bold  Ridge,  which,  for  months  past,  has 
been  occupied  and  nightly  illuminated  by  the  camp 
fires  of  an  insolent  foe.  has  by  your  gallantry  become  a 
towering  monument  of  your  glory  to  future  generations. 
In  exulting  over  our  splendid  success  we  must  not  for- 
get that  it  was  attended  with  the  loss  in  killed  and 
wounded  of  122  heroic  officers  and  1176  brave  men. 

Let  us  offer  to  the  wounded  and  to  the  families  of  the 
gallant  dead  our  heartfelt  sympathies. 

By  command  of  Major  General  Sheridan. 

George  Lee,  Capt.  and  A.  A.  G. 

Then  we  returned  to  Chattanooga.  On  that  trip  we 
marched  over  four  hundred  miles.  March  1st  our  regi- 
ment numbered  one  hundred  sixty  men  and  my  Company 
A,  sixteen  men.  I had  been  in  command  of  the  com- 
pany more  than  three  months.  Our  captain.  B.  F. 
Hegler,  was  in  command  of  the  regiment  during  that 
time.  We  went  into  our  old  camp  and  stayed  in  Chat- 

23 


tanooga  until  June  23rd,  when  we  were  ordered  to  In- 
dianapolis to  be  discharged,  as  our  term  of  enlistment 
had  expired. 

Many  incidents  of  the  soldier’s  life  are  never  put  in 
print,  nor  mentioned,  and  I will  tell  a few  things  that 
I saw  and  what  I did  while  in  the  army,  hoping  it  will 
interest  some  w'ho  may  read  this  narrative.  A few  days 
after  we  went  into  camp  the  Captain  ordered  me  to  take 
a platoon  of  men  and  drill  them.  I told  him  I did  not 
believe  I could  do  it.  He  replied,  “I  will  risk  you.  If 
you  make  mistakes  that  is  what  all  the  rest  of  us  do,” 
and  I went  at  it.  I certainly  did  have  a thrilling  time 
with  that  green  squad  of  men,  but  I wanted  to  be  busy 
so  I tried  to  do  everything  I was  told  to  do,  and  as  a re- 
sult I was  promoted  until  I became  First  Sergeant  of  the 
company,  which  position  I held  for  nineteen  months, 
often  in  that  time  commanding  the  company  in  the  ab- 
sence of  any  commissioned  officer. 

General  Wagoner  decided  to  celebrate  our  victory  at 
Mission  Ridge,  and  ordered  all  commanders  of  compan- 
ies as  well  as  all  commissioned  officers  of  his  brigade  to 
report  at  his  headquarters.  I went  to  help  celebrate. 
Speeches,  bragging,  drinking,  whiskey  and  some  danc- 
ing were  the  order  of  the  evening,  and  fully  one-half  of 
the  officers  got  noisy  drunk.  I must  say  I did  not  like 
such  an  entertainment. 

At  another  time  the  officers  of  the  brigade  decided 
they  would  get  all  the  men  to  re-enlist  for  three  years 
more.  The  colors  were  brought  out  and  carried  up  and 
down  the  color  line  and  speeches  were  made.  Four 
hundred  dollars  and  three  months’  furlough  home  were 
offered  each  man  that  would  re-enlist,  but  there  were 
very  few  in  the  brigade  who  re-enlisted.  The  men  were 
happy  and  the  officers  were  mad.  I was  offered  a cap- 
tain’s commission  if  I would  command  a company  of 
colored  troops,  but  I said,  “No,  thank  you.  I am  not  in 
this  war  for  money  or  office.” 

After  the  battle  of  Mission  Ridge,  in  conversation 
with  a prisoner,  a ma.ior  we  captured  told  me  this,  to 
our  credit  and  praise.  “Sergeant,  I want  to  say  I never 
saw  anything  equal  to  it.  Your  soldiers  kept  coming. 

24 


We  saw  we  could  not  stop  you,  and  I quit  telling  my  men 
to  feed  it  to  you,  and  by  that  time  you  were  not  more 
than  15  feet  from  us.  Then  you  came  over  those  logs 
with  fixed  bayonets — not  like  men,  but  like  giants, 
thrusting,  knocking  and  shooting.  Well,  such  men  can 
be  killed,  but  never  conquered.  I am  done.  I will 
never  fight  you  again.  You  are  brave  men.  I know  I 
will  be  well  treated  by  such  men  as  you.” 

Our  flag  had  passed  through  five  battles  and  ten 
other  engagements  in  eighteen  months  of  service,  and 
it  was  torn  by  shot  and  shell.  Twenty  balls  had  pass- 
ed through  it,  as  well  as  two  cannon  balls,  and  the  staff 
was  splintered.  The  ladies  of  Haskell’s  Station,  La- 
porte  county,  hearing  of  our  ragged  flag,  presented  us 
with  a new  one,  with  Stone  River  printed  on  it  in  large 
capital  letters.  It  was  given  us  as  a token  and  in  ap- 
preciation of  our  noTle  conduct  in  defending  and  carry- 
ing to  victory  in  every  engagement  we  had  been  in. 
They  said  in  their  letter  to  us  that  there  was  no  need  to 
say  to  the  gallant  15th  Indiana,  ‘‘Defend  that  flag.” 
They  said  that  what  we  had  done  in  the  past  was  proof 
of  what  we  would  do  in  the  future  with  this  flag.  And 
“God  bless  the  ladies  of  Indiana,  and  especially  of  La- 
porte  county”  was  the  unanimous  shout  of  every  man  of 
that  grand  regiment.  Our  dear  old  flag,  which  we  had 
carried  for  more  than  eighteen  months  to  victory,  in 
summer’s  heat  and  winter’s  cold  and  storms,  through 
mud,  dust,  day  and  night,  in  sickness,  wounds  and 
death,  we  sent  to  our  good  governor.  O.  P.  Morton,  for 
safe  keeping.  Up  to  that  time,  February,  1863,  the 
regiment  had  lost  over  five  hundred  men,  fifty-five  hav- 
ing been  killed  in  battle,  two  hundred  fifty  wounded 
and  over  one  hundred  sick  in  hospitals,  but,  full  of 
fight  and  love  of  country,  we  carried  our  new  flag  to 
greater  victories. 

I will  now  relate  an  incident  that  occured  while  the 
battle  of  Bethesta  Church  was  being  fought.  This  was 
told  by  my  old  soldier  friend,  Levi  Coffman,  once  sur- 
veyor of  Fountain  county.  At  the  time  of  this  incident 
he  was  civil  engineer  on  Gen.  B.  staff.  “The  Rebel 
battery  in  front  of  our  division  was  giving  no  serious 

25 


trouble.  The  general  told  me  to  go  forward  to  a cer- 
tain hill  in  front  and  get  its  height.  I saluted  and 
started.  The  general,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  wished 
me  success  and  a safe  return.  I reached  the  hill,  got 
my  instruments,  and  sent  my  orderly  back  some  dis- 
tance behind  a hill  with  the  horses.  I went  to  work, 
and  the  Rebels  got  very  busy  I thought,  for  their 
bullets,  grape  and  canister  seemed  to  me  thicker  than 
bees  on  a hot  day  in  a clover  field.  My  instruments 
were  knocked  out  of  my  hand,  my  clothes  were  torn,  and 
I expected  to  be  killed  every  second.  When  I was  in 
agonizing  dread  I,  all  at  once,  felt  that  my  dear  old 
mother  was  praying  for  me,  thinking  of  me  and  plead- 
ing for  me.  With  that  thought  and  strange  feeling,  I 
went  at  rhy  job  faster  and  soon  performed  what  was 
required.  I then  ran  behind  the  hill,  mounted  my 
horse  and  got  away,  but  not  before  both  my  orderly  and 
I and  our  horses  had  been  slightly  wounded.  On  meet- 
ing the  General  I saluted  and  gave  him  my  report,  the 
orderly  taking  the  papers  to  the  captain  of  the  artillery, 
who  had  the  charge  sounded.  The  battery  went  on  the 
run,  took  position  and  in  less  than  one  hour  that  Rebel 
battery  was  destroyed.  Our  infantry  went  forward 
and  drove  the  enemy  pell  mell  in  a hurry.  I wrote  to 
mother  and  asked  her  where  she  was  at  that  time  of 
day  and  if  she  had  been  thinking  of  me.  To  my  joy, 
she  said,  ‘As  usual  I had  been  thinking  of  you,  and  felt 
you  were  in  great  danger.  I went  to  God  in  prayer, 
asking  Him  to  protect  you  and  save  you  from  harm 
and  death.’  And  at  the  same  hour  I didn’t  expect  to 
live  a minute.  I tell  you,  friend  Todd  that  was  a won- 
derful evidence  of  the  power  of  prayer,  and  I have  been 
a greater  believer  in  religion  and  the  protecting  power 
of  God  ever  since.” 

There  was  a man  in  our  company — J.  J.  Boord.  He 
and  I were  neighbor  boys.  We  were  near  Cheat  Moun- 
tain in  West  Virginia.  It  was  on  the  24th  of  July, 
1861,  just  after  our  awful  defeat  of  Bull  Run  battle, 
when  he  told  me  he  wanted  to  talk  to  me  and  burst  out 
crying.  His  body  shaking  with  agony,  he  told  me  that 
he  felt  discouraged,  that  he  was  sure  this  war  would 

26 


last  longer  than  three  years,  that  his  lady  love  had  been 
killed  by  a horse,  and  that  he  never  could  endure  such 
hardships  as  these.  For  two  hours  I tried  to  comfort 
him,  but  left  him  cryiner.  The  next  morning-  he  was 
not  at  roll  call.  I told  the  captain  what  Boord  had 
told  me  the  evening  before,  and  I was  very  uneasy  about 
him.  At  nine  o’clock  a searching  party  was  sent  out 
to  find  him,  and  they  were  successful,  finding  him  be- 
tween three  and  four  P.  M.  on  the  next  day  in  the 
thick  laurel  bushes  on  the  side  of  a mountain  one- 
fourth  mile  from  camp.  I was  soon  at  his  side.  He 
had  knelt  down  between  two  stumps,  placed  a revolver 
in  his  mouth  and  discharged  it.  With  the  revolver 
gripped  in  his  hand  and  in  kneeling  position  we  found 
his  body.  It  was  a sad  scene.  We  buried  him  where 
he  fell  on  the  side  of  the  mountain  and  notified  his  rela- 
tives. 

S.  T.  Morris  of  my  company  declared  he  would  be 
killed  in  the  first  battle  in  which  he  took  part.  I plain- 
ly heard  the  ball  which  killed  him  strike  his  breast. 
Carlton  D.  Crane  of  our  company  also  told  me  he  would 
not  get  out  of  the  battle  of  Mission  Ridge  alive,  and  he 
was  killed  while  carrying  the  flag.  He  asked  me  be- 
fore we  went  into  the  charge  to  tell  his  mother  that  he 
tried  to  do  his  duty,  and  that  he  only  regretted  he  did 
not  have  two  lives  to  give  instead  of  one.  A Confed- 
erate friend  of  mine  told  me  that  there  was  a man  in 
his  company  who  declared  that  his  brains  would  be 
knocked  out  as  sure  as  he  went  out  on  picket  duty  at  a 
ceitain  time.  In  less  than  two  hours  he  was  brought 
back  to  camp  dead,  his  brains  having  been  knocked  out 
by  a piece  of  a shell  fired  from  one  of  the  Yankee  guns. 

Visions  in  dreams  are  almost  as  mysterious  as  pre- 
monitions. April  2nd  to  5th  I had  some  three  or  four 
dreams  which  at  the  time  were  startling,  wonderful 
and  mysterious — different  from  anything  I had  ever 
seen  in  all  my  life.  In  my  sleep  I saw  vast  throngs  of 
men,  horses,  two-wheeled  wagons  and  flags.  The  sky 
was  partly  red  and  smoky.  The  clouds  above  seemed 
to  be  natural  except  for  patches  of  red  like  blood.  Every- 
thing was  agitated  and  all  the  things  on  the  ground — 

27 


men,  horses  and  wagons — were  going  in  one  great 
struggle,  with  all  speed,  forming,  concentrating,  separ- 
ating and  closing  together.  Some  of  the  men  looked 
very  white,  while  some  were  very  red.  Some  were  fall- 
ing, some  were  lying  on  the  ground  while  other  men  and 
horses,  with  flags,  were  running  over  them.  Flags 
could  be  seen  in  all  that  vast  mix-up.  Men  were  wav- 
ing them.  Some  men  were  carrying  others  off.  The 
scenes  were  so  wonderful  and  different  from  anything 
I had  ever  read  of  or  imagined  that  I awoke  in  amaze- 
ment and  wonder  of  the  scene.  What  was  it?  I could 
not  solve  its  mystery  and  it  soon  passed  from  my  mind, 
but  when  Fort  Sumpter  was  fired  on  the  12th  of  April 
following  it  came  to  my  mind  again.  I then  thought 
that  there  was  going  to  be  war  and  probably  that  was 
what  my  dreams  indicated.  Again  it  went  from  my 
mind  until  I had  seen  the  same  in  actual  war  in  the 
battle  of  Shiloh,  Tenn., — so  plain  they  came  to  mind. 
This  is  exactly  what  I had  seen  in  my  vision.  Mystery! 
Mystery!  Vision  of  what  is  to  be. 

The  exposure  and  hardships  of  the  soldier  and  his 
suffering  on  the  march  in  bivouac  and  on  picket  is  never 
understood  or  comprehended.  I will  just  mention  one 
fair  example  of  hundreds  through  which  the  man  who 
kept  in  line  of  duty  went.  He  marches  through  heat, 
dust,  cold  and  mud;  lay  down;  sat  up  on  logs,  rails, 
stumps,  rocks,  brush  and  anything  to  keep  out  of  the 
snow,  mud,  slush,  water  and  ice;  worked  day  and  night 
pulling  cannon  and  wagons  out  of  the  mud,  over  moun- 
tains and  across  streams,  doing  all  this  often  without 
sufficient  food.  They  would  fight  the  enemy  for  hours, 
then  march  all  night  to  surprise  them  in  the  early  morn- 
ing, or  keep  their  guns  in  hand  all  night,  lest  they  be 
surprised.  They  were  often  sick,  had  blistered  feet, 
no  socks,  and  the  weather  was  so  cold  that  the  blankets 
would  freeze  to  the  ground.  Often  they  were  called  to 
get  in  line  to  go  on  double  quick  for  a mile  to  save  our 
forage  train  from  capture.  They  often  marched  as 
high  as  forty  miles  a day.  then  went  on  a reconnais- 
sance to  locate  the  enemy,  or  other  things  in  line  of 
duty.  Sometimes  eight  or  ten  days  of  continuous  duty 

28 


in  that  way  would  be  necessary  to  keep  in  safety  with 
the  army  and  trains,  and  to  have  a little  to  eat.  No 
one,  only  those  w'ho  went  through  three  years  of  war 
in  active  service,  can  know  what  we  suffered  and  en- 
dured. 

In  a running  fight  after  we  had  routed  and  driven  the 
Rebels  from  the  top  of  Mission  Ridge  several  of  us,  in 
our  zeal  and  desire  to  get  all  the  Rebels  we  could,  kept 
on  after  the  assembly  had  been  given.  I saw  tw'o  Rebels 
about  forty  steps  from  me  drop  down  behind  a brush 
heap.  I rushed  forward  and  sprang  beside  the  brush 
pile,  put  the  muzzle  of  my  gun  to  their  breasts  and 
ordered,  “Drop  those  guns!”  They  obeyed  my  order, 
and  I marched  them  back,  turning  them  over  as  prison- 
ers. It  was  easily  done,  but  I took  a big  risk.  The 
captain  asked  where  I got  them,  and  I replied  that  I 
found  them,  behind  a brush  pile.  One  of  the  fellows 

replied,  “Yes,  if  you  had  not  been  so  D quick  I 

would  have  killed  you.”  I thanked  him  for  being  slow. 
If  that  had  occured  in  the  late  World  War,  I would  have 
received  a medal,  but  in  the  Civil  war  that  kind  of  thing 
occured  so  often  we  did  not  think  anything  about  it.  I 
have  been  proud  to  know  that  if  all  the  soldiers  of  the 
Union  aimy  had  been  as  lucky  as  I was  the  war  would 
have  been  over  months  before  it  was,  for  there  would 
have  been  no  Rebels  left  to  fight  us. 

One  of  my  father’s  letters  to  me  was  as  follows:  “I 

have  just  heard  the  thrice  happy  and  heart  thrilling 
news  that  you  are  still  in  the  land  of  the  living,  through 
the  kind  protecting  care  of  our  Heavenly  Father.  And 
in  vain  would  it  be  for  me  to  attempt  to  describe  the 
anxiety,  the  trouble  of  mind,  the  depression  of  spirit  and 
almost  despair  that  has  pervaded  my  mind  and  thoughts 
since  I heard  of  the  awful  and  terrific  storm  of  battle 
you  were  in  and  went  through  for  three  days  in  sut- 
cession,  facing  the  leaden  and  iron  hail,  while  your 
comrades  were  falling  on  your  right  and  left  and  all 
around  you, dead  or  wounded,  especially  when  I heard 
that  so  many  of  your  neighbor  friends  and  schoolmates 
had  been  killed  and  others  wounded.  Neither  could  I 
describe  the  weight  and  despair  that  was  removed  off 

29 


my  mind,  and  the  buoyancy  of  spirit  that  immediately 
sprang  up  on  hearing  a letter  read  from  your  Captain 
to  Mrs.  Hegler,  from  which  I learned  certainly  you 
were  still  living  and  but  slightly  wounded.  He  said 
Sergeant  Todd  lost  two  fingers  on  his  right  hand.  I 
felt  so  elated  and  thankful  to  kind  Providence  for  his 
protecting  care  over  my  young  son,  that  I hardly  know 
what  to  write.  Oh,  thank  God,  may  his  life  be  spared 
for  usefulness  here  in  a long  life.” 

Another  letter  written  to  me  by  my  father  after  the 
battle  of  Mission  Ridge  and  Chattanooga,  on  December 
17th,  1863,  is  as  follows:  “Dear  Son: — The  long-look- 

ed for  letter,  after  weeks  of  great  anxiety  and  trouble 
of  mind,  came  to  hand  yesterday,  and  I saw  Lieutenant 
Pierce  who  told  me  you  were  well  and  all  right,  except 
for  a small  wound  across  your  right  hand.  When  I re- 
ceived your  letter  of  November  22nd,  written  before  the 
great  three  days’  battle,  and  your  letter  of  November 
26th,  the  day  after  the  battle,  a thrill  of  joy,  gratitude 
and  thankfulness  rushed  through  my  old  afflicted  heart 
to  Almighty  God  for  His  kindness  and  protecting  care 
over  my  brave,  patriotic  son  and  his  brave  companions, 
sons  of  my  neighbors  and  friends.  I glory  in  the 
thought  that  our  brave  soldiers  have  immortalized  them- 
selves in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Before  the  battle  of 
Mission  Ridge,  you  said  you  were  in  good  health,  and 
hoped  we  are  all  well  and  will  live  long  to  enjoy  the 
blessings  of  peace  after  this  war  is  over.  For  my  part 
I am  happy  and  contented  and  feel  that  I am  perform- 
ing a duty  I owe  my  God.  my  country,  my  friends  and 
generations  yet  unborn.  The  fortunes  of  war  are  un- 
certain, as  well  as  life  with  us  all.  I live  in  hope  ol 
living  through  this  war,  but  if  I should  fall  in  battle  I 
feel  it  not  too  great  a sacrifice  for  our  country.  I go 
forward  in  duty,  trusting  Him  who  is  too  wise  to  err 
and  too  good  to  do  wrong. 

Lovingly,  Clayton.” 

After  seventy  years  of  experience  and  reading  history 
and  noting  the  results  of  cause  and  effect,  I am  forced 
to  believe  that  there  is  only  one  safe  course  to  take  for 

30 


profit  and  safety,  and  that  is  to  prepare  in  an  intelligent 
way  for  the  worst  that  may  happen  to  an  individual  or 
to  a country,  in  all  different  things  that  may  happen 
in  life.  A farmer,  a preacher,  a merchant,  a lawyer,  a 
teacher,  a soldier  or  a policeman,  to  be  victorious,  must 
be  prepared  in  order  to  be  safe  and  powerful.  Use 
kindness  and  love  to  accomplish  the  great  things  in  life. 
Love  is  the  greatest  of  all  powers  among  men  and  wo- 
men. Whether  an  individual  or  a nation,  we  can  lead 
more  easily  than  we  can  drive,  and  with  so  much  better 
results.  My  experience  has  been  the  same  in  regard 
to  good,  religious  people.  They  have  done  the  greatest 
amount  of  good  for  all  mankind  in  all  ages  and  under 
all  ages  and  under  all  conditions  in  life — in  war  or  in 
peace.  The  greatest  pleasures  and  happiness  in  this 
life  are  in  faith  and  obedience  and  in  doing  the  will  of 
God,  loving  and  serving  Him,  and  keeping  the  Golden 
Rule.  Our  best  soldiers  v/ere  religious  men,  always 
found  doing  that  which  was  for  the  best  interest  to  the 
greatest  number  of  mankind. 

Old  Glory,  seeing  you  fly,  and  the  boys  marching  by. 
There’s  a shout  in  the  throat  and  a blur  in  the  eye 
And  an  aching  to  live  for  you  always — or  die. 

If  dying  we  still  keep  you  waving  on  high. 

And  so  by  our  love  for  you  floating  above 

And  the  scars  of  all  wars  and  the  sorrows  thereof. 
Who  gave  you  the  name  of  Old  Glory  and  why 
Are  we  thrilled  at  the  name  of  Old  Glory? 

And  it  spoke  with  a shake  of  the  voice  and  it  said 
By  the  driven  snow-white  and  living  blood-red 
Of  my  bars,  and  their  heaven  of  stars  overhead. 

By  the  symbol  conjoined  of  them  all,  skyward  cast. 

As  I float  from  the  steeple,  or  flap  at  the  mast. 

Or  droop  o’er  the  sod  where  the  long  grasses  nod — 
My  name  is  as  old  as  the  glory  of  God. 

I stand  for  Liberty,  Justice,  Righteousness  and  God, 


31 


MEMORIAL  DAY  ADDRESS 

By  Cajd.  B F HegJer 

This  adch’ess,  enjoyed  and  approved  when  delivered 
by  my  friend  and  comrade,  Capt.  B.  F.  Hegler,  of  Com- 
pany A,  15th  Indiana  Volunteer  Infantry,  on  May  30th, 
1884,  (Memorial  day),  is  highly  valued  and  appreciated. 
For  nearly  three  years  of  war  we  marched,  fought, 
slept,  suffered,  froze,  thawed  out,  divided  our  rations  as 
low  as  to  one’half  a cracker  each,  and  when  nothing  to 
eat  could  be  found  drank  dirty  water  to  each  other’s 
health  and  safety,  for  very  often  we  could  not  get  clean 
water.  I learned  to  love  him — a brave  soldier,  a fine 
commander,  an  honorable  gentleman.  In  going  into 
battle,  with  a smile,  he  would  say,  “Now,  it  is  to  the 
giave  or  glory,  gentlemen.”  He  was  a natural  born 
soldier  and  fighter.  It  has  been  more  than  thirty-six 
years  since  he  gave  the  citizens  of  Attica  and  surround- 
ing country  this  beautiful  speech.  On  every  Memorial 
day  since  I have  missed  my  friend  and  comrade,  Hegler. 
I hope  to  meet  him  and  all  the  dear  comrades  in  that 
land  Somewhere,  where  there  is  no  such  thing  as  war 
and  separation.  Capt.  Hegler  spoke  as  follows: 

“This  is  a day  of  sorrow,  and  of  pride — sorrow  for  the 
dead,  pride  in  their  deeds;  a day  of  grief  for  the  noble 
fallen,  and  gratitude  for  the  grand  work  which  they 
wrought. 

“With  a deep  reverence  befitting  this  solemn  occasion, 
and  an  intelligent  comprehension  of  what  it  teaches  and 
suggests,  we  gather  to  honor  the  sacred  dust,  and  gar- 
land with  the  choicest  blooms  of  May,  the  grassy  mounds 
where  sleep,  till  resurrection  morn,  the  grandest  heroes 
this  grand  Nation  has  produced — the  dead  Union  sol- 
diers, who  by  their  valor  saved  and  made  sure  the  ex- 
periment of  self-government,  and  perpetuated  Liberty, 
“Since  the  fortunate  termination  of  the  unfortunate 
struggle  which  made  these  men  immortal,  this  day  has 
been  faithfully  observed,  and  its  beautiful  and  impres- 
sive ceremonies  performed.  From  hundred  harbored 
Maine,  whose  wailing  pines  join  in  the  funeral  dirge 
today,  to  California’s  Golden  Gate,  the  flag  of  the  free 
is  draped  with  the  sombre  symbol  of  woe.  The  weeds 

32 


of  mourniner  shadow  a mighty  continent,  and  eyes  all 
unused  to  tears  are  wet  with  the  dews  of  sorrow.  Un- 
numbered hosts  are  thronging  to  the  soldier’s  grave  to- 
day. The  busy  hum  of  trade  is  hushed.  The  fierce 
contention  of  party  strife  is  stilled,  and  the  rushing 
world  stops  for  a brief  time  to  give  expression  of  sorrow 
and  of  honor. 

“And  is  it  too  much?  What  did  these  silent  men, 
whose  once  brave  and  bounding  hearts  are  now  but 
dust?  What  did  these  glorious  manly  lives,  now  so 
still,  and  dead  to  all  the  plaudits  eloquence  can  give — 
all  the  thanks  that  gratitude  can  bestow?  In  the 
morning  and  prime  of  their  hopeful,  happy  lives,  they 
offered  every  hope,  and  promis’e  and  joy  on  the  altar  of 
patriotism.  Homes,  friends,  ease,  pleasure,  fortunes, 
all  the  loves  that  make  the  best  of  life,  were  put  aside 
for  Liberty’s  grand  service,  and  they  went  forth  to 
battle,  offering,  last  and  greatest,  their  own  lives  in  the 
sacred  cause  to  which  they  were  devoted — a cause 
fraught  with  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  all  the  mil- 
lions of  today,  and  all  the  millions  yet  to  be,  not  only  in 
this  land,  but  in  all  the  lands  yet  to  be  knitted  together 
in  that  greatest  of  all  fraternities,  the  Brotherhood  of 
man. 

“Many  men  there  are  today,  whose  hearts  and  sym- 
pathies are  in  this  cause;  many  women  t’nere  are, 
mourning  their  dead  as  Rachel  mourned  for  her  chil- 
dren, and  will  not  be  comforted,  because  they  are  not; 
and  many  of  the  later  generation,  with  whom  the  awful 
experience  we  commemorate  are  only  a tradition.  But 
none  of  them  know,  nor  ever  can  know,  what  these  men 
did.  Eloquence  may  attempt,  but  will  not  achieve  its 
description  The  old  soldiers  here,  and  they  only,  know 
how  these  dead  heroes 

‘Did  such  deeds  of  valor  strong. 

That  neither  history  or  song 
Can  count  them  all.’ 

“The  peril  of  battle,  like  the  deeper  experiences  of 
human  life,  is  beyond  portrayal  on  canvas,  or  in  song  or 
story.  But  with  him  who  has  been  an  oft  invited  guest 
at  the  banquet  of  death,  the  recollections  this  day 

33 


evokes  fills  his  soul  with  something  of  the  old  fire,  and 
he  feels  again  the  trembling  earth,  as  the  grim  batter- 
ies belch  death  and  destruction.  He  sees  again  the 
rich  life  blood  poured  out  so  lavishly  on  sunny  slope, 
and  rugged  steep,  and  fertil  plain.  He  sees  the  glintter- 
ing  of  the  bayonet  and  the  sword  in  the  flash  of  battle. 
He  sees  the  white  faces  of  the  dead,  so  ghastly  and 
blood  besprinkled,  looking  so  cold  and  fixed,  to  the  still 
stars  of  heaven,  when  night  brings  truce.  He  hears 
again  the  moan  of  pain,  and  the  sharp  cry  of  anguish; 
and  the  ringing  shout  of  victory,  as  over  the  smoking 
fort,  and  trenches  piled  with  the  late  contending  hosts, 
boats  the  starry  banner  of  the  free,  all  blackened  and 
tattered,  all  gashed  and  battle  rent,  but  with  every 
star  of  liberty  shining  undimmed  from  its  folds.  And 
he  sees  again  that  worse  than  battle,  the  prison  pen, 
where  no  lion-like  courage,  no  brave  arm  nor  heart  of 
steel,  could  withstand  the  surest  of  death’s  agents — 
starvation  and  disease.  He  sees  the  long  and  dusty 
march  under  a blazing  sun,  where  the  earth  is  iron  and 
the  sky  is  brass,  and  he  lives  in  a dry  land,  where  no 
water  is;  where  all  sulTered  as  the  rich  man,  looking 
afar  off  with  a hope  that  only  mocked  them,  and  begging 
one  drop  to  cool  their  parched  tongues.  He  feels 
again  the  pinch  of  winter’s  frost,  and  remembers  the 
long  watches,  the  march  through  the  dark  and  tangled 
fen,  and  over  burning  sands,  and  up  the  mountain 
height.  The  least  of  war  is  its  battles.  But  the  world 
sees  best  and  hears  best  the  noisy  part  of  life. 

“Since  Satan  despoiled  Eden,  and  all  the  sins  of  man 
showered  upon  us  their  fruitful  curses,  there  has  been 
nothing  worse  than  war.  Only  Liberty’s  defence  can 
ever  justify  it.  So  we  do  not  honor  these  men  just  be- 
cause they  were  warriors,  but  because  they  were  pa- 
triot warriors,  and  endured  all  this  for  Liberty.  And 
right  here,  standing  among  the  graves  of  my  dead 
comrades,  I want  to  speak,  as  a Union  soldier,  and  re- 
cord my  solemn,  earnest  protest  against  the  growing 
spirit  of  sickly  sentimentality,  misnamed  forgiveness, 
which  tends  to  the  obliteration  of  a just  and  proper  dis- 
tinction between  the  soldier  of  patriotism  and  the  sol- 

34 


dier  of  treason.  There  is  a sentimental  swash  about 
the  ‘blue  and  erray,’  which  is  utterly  unworthy  of  the 
noble  cause  for  which  these  men  died.  We  read  after 
every  decoration  day  that  the  friends  of  the  Union  and 
Confederate  armies  have  met  here  and  there,  and 
decorated  the  graves  of  their  dead  together.  Now  God 
knows,  if  none  else  does,  that  there  is  not  now.  and 
never  has  been,  in  my  heart,  one  spark  of  bitter  per- 
sonal hate  against  our  vanquished  foes.  They  were, 
as  a class,  honest,  brave  and  sincere.  But  they  were 
wrong.  They  shared  with  us  the  glory  of  being  Ameri- 
cans though  they  were  for  the  time  bad  Americans.  No 
soldier  ever  doubted  their  grand  courage,  their  splendid 
fortitude  in  the  face  of  disaster  and  discouragement 
that  well  might  appal  the  stoutest  heart.  But  this 
Decoration  Day  is  to  honor  and  keep  in  remembrance 
the  Union  soldier,  the  patriot  who  died  for  a free  gov- 
ernment, not  the  traitor,  who  fought  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Union,  and  to  disgrace  and  dishonor  the 
Flag  of  his  Fathers.  This  is  plain  talk  for  a grave- 
yard, but  it  is  time  to  speak.  Surely,  if  we  could  be 

shot  at  for  years  for  our  country’s  sake  we  ought  not 
nov/,  in  these  piping  times  of  peace,  to  be  afraid  to 
stand  up  and  speak  for  the  right.  If  the  war  for  the 
Union  was  not  right,  then  nothing  was  right.  And  if 
the  war  for  the  Union  was  right,  then  the  war  against 
the  Union  was  wrong — criminally,  cruelly,  damnably 
wrong.  And  if  this  be  so,  why  decorate  the  graves  of 
the  “blue  and  the  gray”  alike  today?  What  significance 
is  there  in  the  tribute,  if  it  be  bestowed  with  impartial 
hand  on  the  men  who  died  for  the  right,  and  the  men 
who  slew  them?  But  such  talk  isn’t  popular,  says 
some  weak-kneed  brother,  without  conscience  enough 
in  him  to  have  a conviction  on  any  subject.  No  matter. 
The  man  who  proclaims  a truth  should  not  stop  to  ask 
whether  it  places  him  in  the  majority  or  minority.  If 
Decoration  day  were  the  occasion  for  a private  and 
personal  expression  of  sorrow  and  respect,  then,  divest- 
ed of  its  public  character,  the  ‘blue  and  the  gray’  might 
be  remembeered  together.  And  I know  I can  safely 
say  for  the  Union  soldiers  in  this  audience,  and  else- 

35 


where,  that  none  others  would  be  more  ready  than  they 
to  forgive,  freely  and  fully,  and  render  due  respect  to 
all  the  gallant  dead.  And  if  any  friend  wishes  today 
to  visit  the  grave  of  one  who  gave  his  life  to  the  lost 
cause,  in  the  name  of  a free  country,  in  the  name  of  a 
Christian  civilization  which  prays,  ‘Forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes as  w’e  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us.’ 
let  him  or  her  do  so,  and  let  no  man  hinder  and  let 
such  sorrow  and  sympathy  be  respected.  But  in  the 
name  of  a free  country,  saved  by  the  valor  of  the  Union 
soldier,  as  respect  this  day,  let  it  be  sacredly  dedicated 
to  the  memory  of  those  for  whom  it  was  instituted. 
These  are  principles  that  are  eternal.  These  are  truths 
that  are  changeless.  There  are  some  things  ever  right, 
and  others  ever  wrong.  And  whenever  our  people  fail 
to  discern  the  difference  between  the  men  who  died  for 
their  country,  and  those  who  fought  against  it,  then 
they  will  have  become  untrue  to  every  patriotic  tradi- 
tion from  Lexington  to  Appomattox,  and  unworthy  the 
enjoyment  of  the  liberties  that  have  cost  so  much. 

“There  is  no  proper  time  or  place  for  ambitious  politi- 
cal display,  or  the  elaboration  of  some  pet  theory  of 
government.  But  it  is  a most  proper  time  to  learn  a 
lesson  from  these  grand  lives,  all  hushed  and  still  for- 
ever. 

“If  they  could  die  for  us,  we  can  at  least  remember 
why  they  died.  We  can  now  and  here  renew  our 
pledges  for  and  rekindle  our  love  for  the  cause  for 
which  they  perished.  Our  promise  as  a Nation  is 
great,  but  forgetfulness  of  the  Union  soldier  and  his 
work,  begets  the  decay  of  patriotism,  and  marks  us  for 
destruction.  A Nation’s  safety  is,  and  can  only  be,  in 
the  hearts  of  her  people.  Let  the  fires  of  Liberty  die 
within  our  bosoms  and  the  chill  of  death  is  upon  us. 

“Then  let  our  gratitude  arise  to  heaven  this  day  like 
a grateful  incense.  Let  us  carry  this  lesson  home  with 
us,  and  teach  it  to  our  children.  Let  us  resolve  for  our 
dead  patriots,  that 

‘The  fame  of  their  endeavor. 

Time  and  change  shall  not  dissever 
From  the  Nation’s  heart  forever.’  ’’ 

36 


MEMORIAL  ADDRESS 


Delivered  May  30,  1920,  by  the  Writer  of  this  Book; 

Ladies,  gentlemen  and  soldiers: — Please  allow  me  to 
thank  you  on  this  Sabbath  of  Americanism,  on  this 
Memorial  day,  for  your  presence.  It  assures  us  old 
soldiers  that  fifty-six  years  after  our  struggles  to  save 
the  Union  the  fires  of  patriotism  are  still  burning  in  the 
hearts  of  our  American  citizens,  as  well  as  in  the  minds 
and  hearts  of  the  soldiers. 

I see  the  affectionate  good-by  of  our  heroic  mothers, 
fathers,  sisters  and  sweethearts.  I feel  the  loving 
press  of  the  hand  of  neighbors  and  loved  ones,  as  the 
car  bell  rings  and  we  must  part.  I see  again  the  grand 
heroic  women  of  America  rise  up  in  their  might  and 
power  and  with  choked  emotion,  in  tears,  say,  “Go  and 
save  your  country  and  its  flag,  and  we  will  stand  by 
you.”  All  through  that  long  struggle  in  the  war  they 
did  not  forget  or  forsake  us,  but  nourished  back  to  life 
the  sick,  bound  up  the  mangled  bodies  of  the  wounded 
and  comforted  the  dying.  They  also  sent,  in  streams, 
loving  epistles  of  cheer  and  courage  to  the  men  at  the 
front,  encouraging  them  and  exciting  them  to  greater 
action  and  greater  sacrifice.  And  I see  that  only  a 
few  old  ladies  are  left.  I want  to  say  for  my  comrades 
and  myself,  that  as  long  as  we  live  we  will  hold  in  love 
and  affectionate  remembrance  what  the  women  did  for 
us.  Their  heroism,  when  surrounded  by  the  enemy, 
proved  them  to  be  as  true  as  any  of  the  men.  They 
would  take  the  old  flag  and,  with  defiance,  say,  “Shoot 
this  old  body,  if  you  will,  but  spare  your  country’s  flag.” 
They  are  just  as  deserving  of  the  floral  tribute  today 
as  are  we.  We  will  never  forget  them.  And  with 
malice  toward  none,  but  charity  for  all,  we  meet  in  lov- 
ing remembrance  of  those  we  love  for  their  devoted 
service  to  others.  Love,  the  greatest  power  on  earth, 
is  the  foundation  of  our  meeting  here  today.  It  is 
boundless.  You  cannot  confine  it.  It  goes  out  in 
gifts  to  others,  those  gifts  comforting  and  blessing. 
And  how  fitting  it  is  that  we  meet  to  tenderly  cherish 
in  love  the  memory  of  our  heroic  dead  of  the  Civil  war 

37 


and  of  the  late  World  war,  who  made  their  breasts  a 
barricade  between  our  country  and  its  foes.  Their 
soldier  lives  were  the  reveille  of  freedom  over  a race 
in  chains,  and  their  deaths  a tattoo  of  rebellious  tyrany. 
We  have  with  us  on  this  day  those  who  are  in  as  loving 
remembrance  of  their  comrades  of  the  Spanish-Ameri- 
can  war,  and  the  World  war,  as  we  are  of  our  sacred 
dead.  They  are  equally  entitled  to  the  flowery  tribute 
which  we  lay  on  the  grave  of  every  man  who  served  his 
country  well  in  her  hour  of  need.  If  other  eyes  grow 
dull,  and  other  hearts  cold  in  the  solemn  trust,  ours 
shall  keep  it  as  long  as  the  warmth  of  life  remains  in 
us.  Here  let  us  highly  resolve  that  they  shall  not  have 
died  in  vain.  And  here  let  us  consecrate  ourselves  to 
the  great  duty  of  all  true  Americans,  to  so  hold  in 
sacred  remembrance  what  they  did  that  their  heroic 
and  noble  service  shall  be  continually  remembered  and 
cherished. 

This  day  brings  to  mind  duty  as  well  as  the  loving 
memory  which  is  to  keep  that  which  they  have  entrust- 
ed to  our  care- — our  country  and  its  flag.  At  the  close 
of  the  World  war,  and  up  to  the  present  time,  we  find 
the  wisdom  of  man  has  been  a failure.  It  is  clear  to 
my  mind,  by  the  experiences  of  the  past,  that  the  arbi- 
trament of  war,  and  through  the  tests  of  rebuilding  a 
life  of  peace,  neither  education,  science,  diplomacy,  nor 
commercial  prosperity,  allied  with  a belief  in  material 
force  as  the  ultimate  power,  are  real  foundations  for 
the  ordered  development  of  the  world’s  life.  The  spirit 
of  good-will  among  men  rests  on  spiritual  forces;  the 
hope  of  a brotherhood  of  humanity  reposes  on  the 
deeper  spiritual  fact  of  the  fatherhood  of  God.  In 
recognition  of  the  fact  of  that  Fatherhood  and  of  the 
divine  purpose  of  the  world,  which  are  central  to  the 
message  of  Christianity,  we  shall  discover  the  ultimate 
foundation  for  the  reconstruction  of  an  ordered  and 
harmonious  life  for  all  men.  The  spiritual  resources 
of  the  race  are  the  true  solvent  of  our  problems.  We 
must  depend  on  the  spiritual  more  than  on  the  material 
for  a lasting  peace.  The  old  soldiers  living  today 
fear  for  the  safety  of  our  country,  for  there  is  war  in 

38 


our  country  this  Memorial  day.  As  we  lay  the  flowers 
on  the  graves  of  the  soldiers  of  the  past,  we  see  there 
is  no  peace.  ■ Neighbor  is  against  neighbor.  Greed, 
selflshness,  hatred,  malice,  envy  and  profiteering  is 
dividing  our  country.  We  are  in  a dangerous  condi- 
tion. We  must  cast  off  everything  that  is  wrong  and 
love  our  neighbor  as  ourself.  Control  yourself  for  the 
sake  of  the  life  of  our  country,  keeping  the  Golden 
Rule  as  your  guide,  praying  God  to  guide  you  in  all 
things,  so  that  the  last  resort — war  and  the  slaughter 
of  men,  may  be  avoided.  The  war  that  is  on  us  today 
is  division — the  same  kind  that  preceded  the  Civil  war 
of  1861-65.  Then  some  wanted  slavery,  but  the  ma- 
jority wanted  all  mankind  to  be  free.  That  division 
was  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  before  1861,  and  owing 
to  the  division  our  country  could  not  stand.  The  war 
slaughter  was  the  result.  I was  in  seven  battles  of 
that  struggle  and  slaughter,  and  in  one  of  the  seven 
I saw  twenty-six  thousand  American  dead  and  wound- 
ed scattered  over  the  battlefield  ten  miles  long  and 
four  miles  wide.  That  kind  of  war  we  must  prevent 
by  stopping  this  war  we  are  now  in,  which  we  can  do 
by  the  greatest  power,  love,  by  all  practicing  the  Golden 
Rule,  by  all  laboring  for  the  brotherhood  of  man,  liberty 
and  the  enforcement  of  law  and  order.  We  must  do 
this  so  we  may  keep  that  which  they  have  entrusted  to 
our  care — our  country,  its  flag  and  all  it  stands  for.  In 
the  future  as  in  the  past,  we  should  live  under  only  one 
flag.  It  has  come  to  us  through  great  suffering,  sacri- 
fice and  loss  of  thousands  of  lives  and  billions  of  treas- 
ures. My  countrymen,  how  can  we  keep  such  a pre- 
cious heritage?  The  people  see  many  things  today 
they  would  like  to  remedy  in  the  condition  of  unrest, 
avarice,  greed,  selfishness,  distrust,  profiteering  and 
other  things.  There  is  surely  service  enough  for  all 
men  and  all  women.  The  highest  thing  is  service  and 
duty. 

I am  glad  on  this  occasion  to  have  the  opportunity 
to  say  what  I can  in  memory  of  that  peerless  army  under 
Lincoln  that  saved  our  country  and  our  flag  of  liberty 
and  freedom,  which  we  are  all  so  proud  to  say  on  this 

39 


day  is  our  flag.  It  still  floats  from  the  steeple  and 
flaps  at  the  mast,  and  today  droops  over  our  heroic  dead. 
Let  us  more  fully  appreciate  the  rich  inheritance  be- 
queathed to  us,  and  by  viligance  and  continuous  duty 
prepare  for  war  in  times  of  peace.  By  education,  in 
Sunday  school,  public  schools,  in  patriotism,  in  military 
schools,  in  best  citizenship,  in  the  great  world  move- 
ment to  convert  the  world  to  Christ,  by  sending  thous- 
ands of  missionaries  to  all  parts  of  the  world,  to  edu- 
cate all  the  people  in  the  love  of  Christ  and  the  Golden 
Rule,  the  love  of  God  and  all  mankind,  the  brotherhood 
of  man,  let  us  do  everything  in  our  power  to  prevent 
war.  And  while  we  are  doing  that,  let  us  see  that  we 
have  the  tools  at  hand  to  use  if  we  are  forced  to  defend 
our  just  laws  and  country — such  as  the  strongest  navy, 
the  best  aviation  force,  the  best  equipped  soldier  citizen- 
ship, the  best  regular  army  of  two  hundred  thousand 
men,  all  liberally  paid  and  properly  equipped  with  the 
best  arms  of  all  kinds.  Let  us  insist  that  America 
must  be  a free  country  to  do  everything  for  the  best 
interest  of  liberty  and  welfare  of  all  mankind.  We 
want  no  foreign  dictation,  no  entangling  alliances  with 
any  nation  or  nations  of  the  world,  and  we  want,  in  our 
way,  to  prevent  war.  giving  all  people  a square  deal. 
Our  past  acts  with  Cuba,  the  Philippines  and  those 
during  the  World  war  are  proof  enough  of  what  we  will 
do  for  righteousness  and  justice  to  all  men.  We  want 
liberty  for  America  first  and  for  all  time.  We  will 
continue  to  insist  that  all  troubles  shall  be  adjusted  by 
counsel  and  arbitration,  not  by  guns  and  slaughter  of 
innocent  men.  We  want  a working  covenant  of  peace 
between  us  and  all  nations,  consistant  with  safety  to 
our  country.  And  we  should  so  guard  it  that  we  can 
pass  it  on  in  its  purity  and  radiance,  with  added  glory, 
to  those  who  follow  us.  I thank  you. 

C.  H.  T. 


40 


15th  Indiana  Volunteer  Infantry 

OFFICERS 

1.  A.  A.  Rice,  Captain,  resigned,  dead. 

2.  J.  N. Coleman,  1st  Lieut.,  resigned,  dead. 

3.  J.  Pearce,  2nd  Lieut.,  resigned,  dead. 

4.  D.  Bright,  1st  Sergt.,  advanced  to  Lieut.,  wounded, 
discharged,  dead. 

5.  B.  F.  Hegler,  Sergt,,  advanced  to  Capt.,  wounded, 
discharged,  dead, 

6.  J.  W.  Budd,  Sergt.,  returned  to  ranks,  discharged 
Sept.  17,  1862,  dead, 

7.  H.  Barkdull,  Sergt.,  returned  to  ranks,  discharged 
in  1862,  dead. 

8.  A.  Pearce,  Sergt.,  appointed  2nd  Lieut,  in  1863, 
dead. 

9.  B.  G.  Snider,  Corp.,  died  of  disease  at  Louisville, 
Ky. 

10.  J.  W.  Hamilton,  Corp.,  discharged  June  25,  1864, 
dead. 

11.  C.  H.  Todd.  Corp.,  discharged  June  25.  1864,  living 
July  20,  1920. 

12.  M.  S.  Persing,  Corp.,  deserted  Feb.  5,  1862,  dead. 

13.  John  Seelig,  Corp.,  reduced  to  ranks  June  20,  1862, 
dead. 

14.  S.  T.  Stallard,  Corp.,  appointed  Serg.,  wounded,  dis- 
charged in  1864,  dead. 

15.  E.  Crane,  Corp.,  wounded,  discharged  June  25, 
1864,  dead. 

16.  R.  Kester,  Corp.,  appointed  Serg.,  killed  in  battle. 

17.  J.  K.  Prichard,  musician,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

18.  W.  W.  Meek,  musician,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

19.  W.  H.  Barnits,  wagoner,  reduced,  wounded,  dis- 
charged in  1863,  dead. 

PRIVATES 

1.  Allen,  E.,  discharged  June  27,  1862,  dead. 

2.  Allen.  Henry,  wounded,  died  Dec.  31,  1862. 

3.  Andersen,  S.  S.,  died  in  W.  Virginia  in  1861. 

4.  Barlow,  Ira  B,,  discharged  in  1864,  dead. 

5.  Boyd,  Lem,  discharged  Nov.  19,  1861,  dead. 

41 


6.  Board,  Chris,  wounded,  discharged  June  25,  1864, 
dead. 

7.  Boord,  J.  J.,  killed  in  West  Virginia  in  1861. 

8.  Brown,  W.  R.,  discharged  1864,  dead. 

9.  Brady,  J.  W.,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

10.  Brady,  Joe  V.,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

11.  Benge,  T.  H.,  discharged  in  1863,  dead. 

12.  Broadsword,  A.,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

13.  Butler,  J.  H.,  died  of  disease  in  Kentucky  in  1862. 

14.  Bunce,  J.  W.,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

15.  Cassel,  J.  H.,  killed  in  battle  of  Mission  Ridge  in 

1863. 

16.  Gatlin,  A.  S.,  discharged  in  1862,  dead. 

17.  Conner,  J.  M.,  discharged  in  1864,  dead. 

18.  Crane,  C.  D.,  killed  Nov.  25,  1863. 

19.  Curran,  John,  killed  Dec,  31,  1862. 

20.  I)a.y,  Wes,  killed  Nov.  25,  1863. 

21.  Dithmer,  F.,  transferred  to  17th  Indiana,  dead. 

22.  Downey,  James,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

23.  Downey,  Si,  wounded,  discharged  July,  1863,  dead. 

24.  Dunkleberger,  H.  J.,  discharged  June  25,  1864, 
dead. 

25.  Edenburg,  Pete,  discharged  April  10,  1863,  dead. 

26.  Erwin,  Elza,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

27.  Fitzpatrick,  C.  F.,  deserted  May  25,  1862,  dead. 

28.  Fremont,  J.  C.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

29.  Furgeson,  W.  H.  H.,  discharged  July  10,  1862,  dead, 

30.  Fisher,  Henry,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

31.  Greenburg,  N.  E.,  transferred  to  17th  Ind.,  dead. 

32.  Griffin,  Mike,  transferred  to  17th  Indiana,  dead, 

33.  Green,  A.  J.,  transferred  to  17th  Ind.,  dead. 

34.  Hale,  W.  H.,  wounded  twice,  discharged  June  25, 

1864,  dead. 

35.  Hart,  J.  G.,  wounded  once,  discharged  June  25, 
1864,  dead. 

36.  Hegler,  V/.  T.,  wounded  Dec.  31,  1862,  died  in  1863. 

37.  Hogelan,  Henry,  killed  at  Stone  River,  Dec.  31, 
1862. 

38.  Keister,  J.  M.,  killed  at  Mission  Ridge  Nov.  25,  1863. 

39.  Death,  George  H.,  wounded,  discharged  June  25, 
1864,  dead. 


42 


40.  Leffler,  Alf.,  wounded,  discharged  June  25,  1864, 
dead. 

41.  Lonberger,  H.  H.,  discharged  in  1862,  killed  in  west. 

42.  McClafflin,  C.,  discharged  in  1864,  dead. 

43.  McDonald,  S.,  discharged  in  1863,  died. 

44.  McKnight,  J.  T.,  advanced  to  Lieut.,  discharged 
June  25,  1864,  dead. 

45.  McKnight,  W.  H.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

46.  Miller,  A.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

47.  Miller,  John,  died  of  disease  at  Indianapolis  in 
1862. 

48.  Moore,  Alonzo,  died  of  disease  in  1862. 

49.  Morris,  S.  T.,  killed  at  Mission  Ridge,  Nov.  25,  1863. 

50.  Maylan,  John,  died  at  Indianapolis  in  1862. 

51.  Murry,  William,  died  in  1863. 

52.  Mourse,  Moses,  died  in  1862. 

53.  Odle,  Miles,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  died  Nov. 
21,  1919. 

54.  Paulding,  Jacob,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

55.  Parmer,  W.  E.,  killed  at  Stone  River,  Dec.  31,  1862. 

56.  Phifloon,  James,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

57.  Phipps,  David,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

58.  Phillips,  J.  H.,  discharged  in  Oct.  1863,  dead. 

59.  Powers,  D.  F.,  discharged  Sept.,  1862,  dead. 

60.  Pulleyblank,  John,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

61.  Pickard,  J.  M.,  discharged  May  1862,  dead. 

62.  Ralston,  J.  W.,  left  the  company  in  May,  1863,  dead. 

63.  Rainey,  R.  W.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

64.  Ruark,  W.  M.,  died  Jan.,  1862. 

65.  Seely,  A .S.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

66.  Search,  W.  H.,  discharged  August,  1862,  dead. 

67.  Shields,  Andrew,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

68.  Shideler,  G.,  transferred  to  U.  S.  cavalry  Dec.  3, 
1862,  dead. 

69.  Smith,  G.  W.,  transferred  to  U.  S,  cavalry  Dec.  3, 
1862,  dead. 

70.  Snow,  Francis  N.,  transferred  to  U.  S.  cavalry  Dec. 
3,  1862.  dead. 

7L  Stafford,  H.  H.,  discharged  in  Dec.  1863,  dead. 

72,  Steadman,  J.  C.,  discharged  in  Dec.  1863,  dead. 

73.  Stewart,  S.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

43 


74.  Swords,  Jo,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

75.  Stauffer,  S.  H.,  died  at  Nashville  April  1,  1862. 

76.  Stevens,  Clay,  discharged  in  June.  1863,  dead. 

77.  Thompson,  S.,  discharged  June  25,  1864,  dead. 

78.  Treadwell,  I.,  killed  at  Mission  Ridge  Nov.  25,  1863. 

79.  Warren,  D.  G.,  transferred  to  V.  R.  C.  Jan.,  1864, 
dead. 

80.  Wert,  John,  transferred  to  V.  R.  C.  in  Jan.,  1864, 
dead. 

81.  Woods,  John,  transferred  to  V.  R.  C.  in  Jan.,  1864, 
dead. 

82.  Williams,  J.  W.,  killed  at  Stone  River  Dec.  31,  1862. 

RECRUITS  TO  COMPANY  A,  AUGUST  10,  1862. 

1.  Campbell,  Thomas  P.,  transferred  to  17th  Indiana, 
living  in  California  July  20,  1920. 

2.  Campbell,  Jonathan,  died  in  Tennessee  Jan  16, 
1863. 

3.  Crane,  Lewis  C.,  wounded  at  Stone  River,  V.  R.  C., 
Aug.  L 1863,  dead. 

4.  Day,  Joseph  H.,  transferred  to  17th  Indiana  VoL, 
dead. 

5.  Gibbs.Johathan,  died  in  Tennessee  March,  1863. 

6.  White,  James  A.  L.,  killed  at  Mission  Ridge  Nov. 
25,  1863. 

7.  Gunter,  C.  C.,  died  in  Tennessee  June,  1863. 

8.  Harbert,  Isaac,  transferred  to  17th  Ind.  June,  1864, 
dead. 

9.  Pearson,  T.,  transferred  to  17th  Ind.  in  June,  1864, 
dead. 

10.  Purple,  E.,  died  in  Kentucky  in  Jan.  1864. 

Company  A,  The  Attica  Guards,  on  June  14,  1861,  num- 


bered   101  men. 

Recruits  in  1862 10  men. 

Total  number  men  in  company 111  men. 

There  were  killed  in  battle 14 

Died  from  disease  or  accident 11 

Discharged  on  account  of  disability  or  disease 43 

Transferred  to  other  organizations 10 

Discharged  June  25,  1864  33 


44 


They  were  under  the  enemy’s  fire  in  battle  fifty-two 
times,  and  were  in  the  following  battles : Rich  Moun- 

tain, Virginia,  Tigert  Valley,  Virginia  and  Battle  Green- 
brier, West  Virginia:  Shiloh.  Tenn.;  Pittsburg  Landing, 
Tenn. : Corinth,  Miss.;  Perrysville.  Ky. ; Stone  River, 
Tenn. ; Chattanooga,  Tenn. ; Mission  Ridge,  Tenn ; Knox- 
ville, Tenn.;  and  in  forty-two  other  engagements.  They 
marched  on  foot  over  four  thousand  miles  and  traveled 
by  boat  and  cars  twenty-five  hundred  miles. 


There  were  all-told  in  the  15th  Indiana 1125 

Killed  in  battle 111 

Wounded  in  action 332 

Discharged  on  account  of  disability,  wounds  or 

disease  525 

Died  from  disease 55 

Transferred  to  other  regiments 96 

Discharged  June  25,  1864 336 


Company  A lost  63  per  cent  of  her  men  and  the  regi- 
ment lost  62  per  cent  of  hers. 


45 


DEATHS  IN  CO.  A,  I5TH  INDIANA  VOLUNTEER  INFANTRY 

From  June  14.  1861.  to  June  24.  1864.  inclusive. 

NAMES  RANK  WHERE  CAUSE 

Joseph  H.  Board  private  West  Virginia  shot 

Samuel  S.  Anderson  corporal  West  Virginia  disease 


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The  Little  Bronze  Button 


It  is  just  a little  button 

Made  from  cannon  of  the  foe, 
Captured  on  the  field  of  battle 
By  men  whose  names  we  know : 
Cannon  trained  upon  Old  Glory 
The  emblem  of  the  free, 
Defended  by  the  boys  in  blue 
Upon  the  land  and  sea. 


It  is  just  a little  button 

Worn  upon  a Comrade’s  breast. 
But  it  tells  a thrilling  story 
Of  one  who  stood  the  test 
Under  our  starry  banner 
In  that  long  and  bitter  fight. 

With  Sherman.  Grant  and  Farragut, 
For  Union  and  for  right. 


It  is  just  a little  button. 

Quite  simple,  yet  sublime. 

But  it  wakens  recollections 

Of  that  well  remembered  time : — 
They  left  their  wives  and  sweethearts 
Weeping  at  the  door. 

And  responded  to  the  summons 
For  a hundred  thousand  more. 


It  is  just  a little  button. 

But  no  valiant  knight  of  old 
Ever  wore  upon  his  bosom 

Made  of  precious  gems,  or  gold, 
A badge  of  greater  value 
Than  this  simple  little  stud. 
Worn  by  veteran  volunteers 

And  purchased  with  their  blood. 


47 


It  is  just  a little  button, 

And  carved  upon  its  face 
As  well  as  on  their  memory 
That  time  cannot  deface, 

Is  the  emblem  of  Protection, 

To  helpless  child  or  wife. 

Left  by  a fallen  Comrade, 

In  the  world  of  care  and  strife. 


It  is  just  a little  button. 

But  I needn’t  ask  you  why 
The  banker  in  his  broadcloth 
Salutes  in  passing  by. 

Though  the  coat  be  old  and  seedy. 
With  other  signs  of  wear. 

It  never  will  be  noticed 
If  it  has  the  button  there. 


Poets  write  of  decorations. 

By  Emperors  and  Kings, 

Of  gold  and  iron  crosses 

Legion  of  Honor  and  siirnet  rinp;s. 
But  among  such  recognitions 
Of  response  to  duties  call 
The  little  copper  BUTTON 

Is  the  one  that  ranks  them  all. 


The  writer,  who  did  not  miss  a single  campaign  or  en- 
gagement with  the  enemy  and  who  was  twice  wounded 
during  the  three  years  he  took  part  in  the  Civil  war, 
visited  the  old  battlefields  thirty  years  after  the  close  of 
the  war.  The  lightning  flash  of  memory,  penetrating 
the  clouds  of  over  thirty  years,  brought  before  me  the 
slaughter  of  war  on  Virginia’s  bloody  streams,  on 
Shiloh’s  bloody  field,  on  Stone  River’s  bloody  banks,  on 
Mission  Ridge’s  bloody  drenched  heights,  on  Perrys- 
ville’s  peaceful  hills,  valleys  and  rich  mountain  slopes — 
and  brought  before  me  the  sick,  the  dying  and  the  dead 

48 


As  I went  over  and  viewed  the  old  battlefields,  I was 
inspired  to  write  the  following  poem: — 


THE  COMFORTING  JOY  IN  OLD  AGE 

I tell  you,  friends,  those  days  there  was  wild  music  in 
the  air. 

So  awful  wild,  it  was  enough  to  raise  a feller’s  hair — 

A sort  of  double  chorus,  with  the  singers  face  to  face — 

The  muskets  singing  tenor,  and  the  cannons  singing 
bass. 

I have  gone  over  the  same  ground  on  which  we  were 
fighting  there. 

And  felt  a thrill  start  at  my  feet  and  run  up  to  my 
hair. 

I lay  down  on  the  very  snot,  as  near  as  I could  tell ; 

I went  on  working  my  old  gun  in  that  hot,  fiery  hell. 

Around  the  battle  field  there  seemed  a tumult  in  my 
brain. 

My  thoughts  were  with  those  bloody  days  again. 

I heard  the  cannon  roar  defiance  from  their  throats. 

The  ring  of  desperate  anger  in  their  wild  unearthly 
notes. 

The  shells  a’bustin’  all  around,  and  screaming  oyerhead. 

I see  the  upturned  faces  of  my  comrades  lying  dead. 

Again  I smell  the  battle  smoke,  the  breath  of  battle  hell. 

Arising  from  a fire  it  seemed  no  earthly  power  could 
quell. 

And  I heard  the  groans  of  wounded  boys  that  all  around 
us  lay. 

Their  faces  set  in  agony  as  their  life-blood  ebbed 
away. 

Again  I heard  the  rebel  yell  resounding  in  my  ears. 

When  they  came  charging  on  our  triumphant  cheers. 

49 


Then  I see  the  sr&y  lint  waiver  in  confusion,  then  re- 
treat— 

A failure  they  were  not  anxious  to  repeat. 

And  today  my  thoughts  awaken  scenes  that  unfold 
The  newly  wakened  memories  that  shine  as  burnished 
gold. 

Again  I hear  the  fifes  and  drums  begin  to  play 

“The  Girl  I left  Behind  Me”,  as  my  thoughts  wing 
away. 

Dear  comrades,  we  are  near  the  journey’s  end,  hand  in 
hand. 

Let  us  do  a little  more  service  as  we  go  to  the  promis- 
ed land. 


Onward,  Christian  Soldiers 

Onward,  Christian  soldiers. 
Marching  as  to  war. 

With  the  cross  of  Jesus 
Going  on  before; 

Christ  the  Royal  Master 
Leads  against  the  foe; 
Forward  into  battle. 

See,  His  banners  go. 


50 


My  Country  ’Tis  Of  Thee 


My  country ! ’tis  of  thee, 

Sweet  land  of  liberty. 

Of  thee  I sing; 

Land  where  my  fathers  died! 
Land  of  the  pilgrims’  pride! 

From  ev’ry  mountain  side 
Let  freedom  ring! 

My  native  country,  thee 
Land  of  the  noble,  free, 

Thy  name  I love; 

I love  thy  rocks  and  rills, 

Thy  woods  and  templed  hills; 

My  heart  with  rapture  thrills 
Like  that  above. 

Let  music  swell  the  breeze. 

And  ring  from  all  the  trees 
Sweet  freedom’s  song; 

Let  mortal  tongues  awake ; 

Let  all  that  breathe  partake; 

Let  rocks  their  silence  break. 
The  sound  prolong. 

Our  fathers’  God!  to  Thee, 
Author  of  liberty. 

To  Thee  we  sing; 

Long  may  our  land  be  bright 
With  freedom’s  holy  light; 

Protect  us  by  Thy  might. 
Great  God,  our  King! 


51 


Xhe  Joy  Just  Before  Last  Roll  Call 

still,  still  with  thee,  when  purple  morning  breaketh. 
When  the  bird  waketh  and  the  shadows  flee. 

Fairer  than  morning,  lovelier  than  the  daylight. 
Dawns  the  sweet  consciousness  I am  with  thee. 

Alone  with  thee,  amid  the  mystic  shadows. 

The  solemn  hush  of  nature  newly  born. 

Alone  with  thee,  in  breathless  adoration, 

In  the  calm  dew  and  freshness  of  the  morn. 

When  sinks  the  soul,  subdued  by  toil  to  slumber, 

Its  closing  eye  looks  up  to  thee  in  prayer; 

Sweet  the  repose,  beneath  thy  wings  are  shading, 
But  sweeter  still  to  wake  and  find  thee  there. 

So  shall  it  be  at  last,  in  that  bright  morning 
When  the  soul  waketh  and  life’s  shadows  flee. 

0,  in  that  hour,  fairer  than  daylight  dawning 
Shall  rise  the  glorious  thought,  I am  with  thee. 


52 


In  taking  a retrospective  view  of  what  I have  written, 
mv  life  seems  to  have  been  a wonderfully  miraculous 
one — in  war  and  in  peace.  As  I recall  what  I have 
seen  and  e.xnerienced,  I am  forced  to  believe  my  Creator 
has  been  with  me  and  directed  and  protected  me  all 
through  the  eighty  years  of  my  life — years  full  of  toil, 
joys,  suffering  and  rich  reward — a life  worth  living. 
My  sacrifices  have  not  been  equal  to  my  joys,  and  as  I 
near  life’s  journey  my  chief  joy  is  service  to  God  and 
country.  In  youth  I enjoyed  to  the  full  its  bloom,  its 
love  and  fruitage,  and  joys.  War  came  and  the  bur- 
dens and  responsibilities  of  life’s  duties — labor,  sacri- 
fice, toil  and  suffering.  I have  tried  to  do  my  part  in 
defense  of  right  and  liberty.  Peace  came.  I thank 
God  for  it.  I plunged  into  its  activities;  I founght  its 
battles;  I gathered  its  fruits  as  I passed  its  various 
ways.  Some  were  bitter,  but  most  of  them  were  sweet. 
My  pleasures  have  been  greater  than  my  sorrows.  My 
Heavenly  Father  chose  to  give  me  a loving  wife  in  1867 
(Miss  Belle  Spinning),  and  when  death  separated  us 
in  1885,  he  again  chose  and  gave  me  in  1887  a loving 
companion  who  has  blessed  me  with  a good  home,  a 
loving  home  and  the  necessary  comforts  of  this  life. 
Surely  goodness  and  mercy  have  been  with  me  all  my 
life.  And  in  conclusion  I would  insist  that  all  Amer- 
icans work  for  America,  make  it  powerful  and  strong 
by  universal  preparation  for  the  worst  that  can  come 
to  our  country.  To  the  young  people  of  our  country 
I say,  “Choose  the  good  part  that  cannot  be  taken  from 
you.  Bear  life’s  burdens  like  men.  Love  God  and 
your  country.’’  I only  regret  that  I did  so  little  in 
life’s  duties. 


THE  END 

C.  H.  TODD,  Sergeant  Co.  A,  15  Indiana. 


53 


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• It 

^ , .'/''JaW  Of jiB 


A BOOK— THEEE  YEARS  AM)  THREE  MONTHS  A SOLDIER 


Many  of  my  comrades  and  friends  have  asked  me  many  times  to 
write  a narrative  of  my  experience  and  what  I saw  during  three  years 
of  the  Civil  War  as  a soldier.  As  none  of  my  regiment  has  written  any 
history  of  the  part  we  performed,  I decided  to  write  a short-  history 
without  exaggerations  concerning  life  in  war.  And  at  the  age  of  79 
years,  amid  the  infirmities  of  age  I have  written  the  story.  I hope  it 
will  prove  interesting  to  my  comrades  and  all  others  with  whom  I 
have  been  associated  since  these  thrilling  scenes  were  enacted.  I have 
published  a limited  number  of  these  booklets  at  my  own  expense,  and 
all  revenue  from  their  sale  will  be  given  to  the  building  fund  of  the 
new  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of  Attica,  Indiana.  As  the  expense 
of  printing  is  very  high  I am  asking  my  friends  to  pay  one  dollar  per 
copy  to  the  treasurer  of  the  M.  E.  Church,  Attica. 

Dear  Friend, — I am  sending  you  one  of  my  books  which  I hope 
will  interest  you;  a private  soldier’s  experience  in  over  three  years  of 
Civil  war  in  America,  showing  what  the  rank  and  file  of  an 

army  has  to  endure  and  go  through.  We  are  rebuilding 

our  M.  E.  Church  in  Attica  and  have  a Soldiers’  Building  fund. 
We  are  asking  soldiers  and  friends  of  soldiers  to  assist  us  in  raising 
funds  to  pay  for  it,  what  you  contribute  will  go  on  the  Soldier  fund, 

and  you  will  be  credited  on  same.  Our  new  church,  w'hen  completed, 

will  be  fireproof,  and  one  of  the  finest  in  Indiana,  a blessing  to  our 
city,  surrounding  country  and  to  generations  of  children  yet  unborn. 
It  is  the  young  people  we  want  to  educate  in  everything  that  makes 
them  better  citizens  and  lovers  of  home,  church,  and  country.  Please 
send  direct  to  Treasurer  M.  E.  Church,  Attica,  Indiana. 

In  behalf  of  the  church  and  all  interested,  I thank  you, 

C.  H.  TODD. 


C.  H.  TODD  WRITES  HISTORY 

C.  H.  Todd,  a civil  war  veteran  of  this  city,  has  just  finished  the 
publication  of  a 56  page  book,  which  gives  a history  of  the  part  taken 
by  Company  A,  15th  Indiana  Volunteer  Infantry  in  the  civil  war  of 
which  he  was  a member.  Mr.  Todd  served  for  three  years  and  three 
months  as  a member  of  this  company,  and  saw  and  took  part  in  some 
of  the  greatest  battles  of  that  war.  Mr.  Todd  gives  a very  graphic  de- 
scription of  the  maneuvers  in  those  great  batties,  and  being  toid  by 
one  who  was  on  the  ground  the  story  is  told  with  an  earnestness  that 
gives  it  a realism,  and  the  reader  sees  before  him  the  movements  of 
these  great  armies  with  the  tragedies  that  follow  in  their  wake.  It  is 
a very  interesting  book  for  any  one  to  possess  and  especially  any  one 
who  had  a relative  in  the  civil  war.  Mr.  Todd  published  this  book  at 
his  own  expense  and  he  has  given  the  copies  to  the  M.  E.  church  to  be 
sold  at  $1  each,  the  proceeds  to  go  to  the  new'  church  building  fund. — 
Fountain-Warren  Democrat. 


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